Digimon Heroes
by ScribbledCrayon
Summary: Heroes come in all shapes, sizes and colors... and grade levels. But can any one person become a hero against all odds? Against an unknown virus and formidable enemies?... against her own will?
1. A Day in the Life

Howdy. Yesh, tis me, the former Heykyra13. I am a neurotic freak that likes creating new accounts every few years or so. Don't ask me why... if I were capable of coming up with an answer, chances are you wouldn't like it.

Anywho, yeah. Got to thinking about digimon for the first time in ages... and what a new season would be like. After I was done thinking, I started writing. And took a pause about forty pages later...

Right now, I'm hungry, sleepy, and desiring my tv to work so I can continue playing FFXII. But, in lieu of that, I shall offer this chapter.

Enjoy.

_Standard Disclaimer: Nearly all of the characters in this fiction are the property of whoever created the Digimon series (because I'm too lazy to go look it up myself). There are a few characters present that are my own originals, but they should be obvious enough to not require pointing out. Please don't sue me because you won't get much. I promise._

* * *

**Chapter One**

**A Day in the Life**

* * *

No matter the point in history, there is one defining characteristic of all truly great heroes- destiny.

Ulysses the Great. Joan of Arc. King Arthur. Frodo Baggins.

Men and women whose heroic actions were written in the stars and read by the mystics long before their birth. Born with star-shaped birth marks or on astronomically significant dates, smuggled away in the dead of the night to be raised by fairies, wolves, or the foster care system. All raised to respect the ways of the sword, to stand for justice, and prepare themselves to change the world. Nearly every hero was nurtured in just such a system.

But is that necessarily a… a prerequisite of heroism?

What if someone wasn't born with special markings or on a significant day? Even if that person checked online through the calendars of every ancient culture they could think of? Does that mean the stars didn't think there was anything special about that person? Does a single mom and a bratty little sister count as being raised by wolves? What if that person wasn't meant to learn about justice and truth and standing up for the little people until their junior year in high school? Does the hero system take exceptions? Who do you turn to in order to ask these things, anyway? Is there a person in charge of hero-picking? Does anyone know?

There are songs written that cry in high sopranos, "There is a hero in all of us". But, if that were the case, then what is a hero but an ordinary person? Is there really nothing uniquely special about them?

Can an ordinary person really be a hero even if it's not in their destiny?

Can someone be a hero by accident?

Even someone like… me?

* * *

"Sara! Get up!"

_No. I'm in the middle of a terrific dream. You're interrupting._

"I mean it, Sara. Don't make me come up there."

_Where you will find a mine field of smelly clothes and board game pieces awaiting you._

"That's it! I've had enough!"

Then, silence.

I stared at the ceiling through the small hole in my comforter. Glow-in-the-dark stars were scattered liberally over the vast expanse of white. It looked impressive at night, when the darkness was almost tangibly thick and their light rained down like an army of light sabers. In the daytime, though, I tended to shy away from their pathetic plasticky-ness.

I was trying to listen for the growl of contempt amidst the tea kettle whistle and the television. Whatever paper, journal, or notebook was in her hands would be thrown atop the counter, the chair would screech loudly, and her thunderous footsteps would work their way towards my sanctuary, heavy and sincere in their foreboding promise of doom. These were the sounds I expected to hear, that my ears strained for.

But… nothing.

I lay in my bed, blinking up at the putrescent green stars, overwhelmed with shock. Could I have possibly… won_? No, banish the thought. My mother did not simply give up. The inclination to let things lie was to be found on a lonely little set of genes that she had thrust out of her growing body during development._ But surely, she would have made some gesture toward retaliation by now, right? _Don't let your guard down. She's plotting. She's scheming._ But still…

So busy was I in conducting this debate with myself that I had completely missed the telltale squeak of pressure on the wooden floor in front of my door.

Didn't miss the sudden banging, though.

"_Sara Angelina Warren, you get out of that bed right now_!"

I was so taken off-guard that I failed to respond in a mature and laid back way. In one panic-stricken moment, I screamed and fumbled out of bed, taking half of the bed-covering things with me. A loud thump heralded my successful landing.

I craned my head over my shoulder to look at my bruised tailbone. "Ow," I told it.

I heard laughter outside my window. "Graceful. Very."

I took a quick moment to put together a fierce scowl before I turned to face the speaker. "So glad you were here to witness my demonstration, Biyomon. Now, every time you fall, you'll know how to do it with style."

Biyomon's expression soured. She lifted her beak in an ultra-dignified manner and turned to fluff her tail feathers at me. "And to think, I thought Mr. Monochromon was a grouch! No need to get your feathers in a bunch, _Warren_." And she raised her stubby little wings and took off, obviously to tell the rest of the neighborhood about my blunder.

"Stupid, stuffy, nosy _digimon_!" I shouted after her.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

"Sara!"

"I'm coming, already!" I shouted back. "Gimme a few minutes!"

The door heaved an exasperated sigh. "You had a few minutes a few minutes ago!"

I peeled myself out of the bed debris on the floor and maneuvered around the minefield to my closet. "Unless you want me showing up to school in my red satin lingerie, my few minutes will start right now."

There were a few more bangs. "Very funny. I think you mean to say that unless _you_ want to show up to school in your old t-shirt and boxers, you will find yourself out of this room completely dressed in sixty seconds!" And, before I had a chance to come up with a rebuttal, I heard the thunderous footsteps I had been waiting for.

I sighed. "Well, at least I bought myself sixty sec-"

"Fifty-nine!" came my mother's slightly faded voice.

Wonderful.

* * *

In exactly ninety-two seconds, I was rushing after my mom who was power walking to the parking garage. The three of us- Mom, me, and the runt- lived in an apartment complex called Forest Creek. Don't ask me where the name came from. It's on the outskirts of an American metropolis and the closest creek was whatever happened to be in the little stream of questionable liquids that ran along the curb to the sewer drain. The buildings themselves were nice- kind of gothic inspired with arched doorways, spiked steeples and beautiful iron scrollwork on the balconies and windows. The manager is a Togemon who applied for a business visa to run this place nearly ten years ago, and she can make peanut butter cookies like nobody's business. All residents aged fifteen and under call her TogeMom.

Forest Creek occupies four buildings, three of which housed apartments while the fourth was the parking garage. The garage was a new addition, built only two years ago and not nearly as cool as the other buildings. But Mom thought it a waste of tax dollars if she didn't park in the garage, even though it was a much farther walk than if she were to park in the lot assigned to our building.

We each made our way up the three flights of stairs- one of us more elegantly than the other- to where her car was parked. It was a silver sedan four-door with four airbags and a child seat that was built into the back. I slid into the front seat with my backpack on my lap as Mom turned the keys in the ignition and readjusted her sunglasses for optimal coolness. She was dressed in one of her favorite power suits- the black one with silver pin-striping, long pencil skirt, and heels that wouldn't be permitted at my school on account of there are no weapons allowed.

"Do you have another case today?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her suit.

Mom looked over her shoulder to back up out of the parking space. "There's a man suing the Protection of Artificial Life Organization for aiding and abetting."

"Why?"

"He claims a digimon stole property of his and fled to the Digital World for safety. And because the client I'm representing was unable to procure a visa for crossing worlds, he's suing PALO for essentially protecting a fugitive. Dennis Loeman- that man I told you was doing everything he can to tear PALO down- will have a field day with this case. He's going to be present at the hearing."

I snorted and stared out the window as we pulled out of the garage. An airplane and an Airdramon crossed paths in the sky. "Well, that's just stupid. PALO's not the one handing out the visas, it's the government. And besides, no one's allowed in the Digital World except researchers anyway. What did he expect, to get special treatment just because he's rich?"

"No." Mom paused as she watched an elderly couple crossing the street. "He expected to get special treatment because he's very _very_ rich."

I snorted again.

"Stop that, it's not ladylike," Mom scolded. "And PALO may not be the one handing out the visas, as you say, but they did institute the program, and they wrote the requisite conditions for the visa approval process."

"Why can't he just ask one of the researchers to keep an eye out for whatever it is that digimon stole?"

"Beats me. But I'm just a lawyer- I'm not legally allowed to question the sanity of my clients unless I think it will help my case."

"Will it?" I asked, curious.

"Not at all."

_I bet he doesn't want anyone to know what it is that digimon stole_, I thought. A whole closet full of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys novels told me so. But I knew better than to voice that view with my mother. She'd just tell me that fiction doesn't count as evidence in the real world, let alone the court of law.

Try telling that to Batman. I bet Batman could list a dozen cases of his in which the final clue was found in a children's story, or a video game, or the script of an independent film.

We drove in comfortable silence for a while, me staring out the window while Mom had her eyes locked on either the road or the rear-view mirror, foot easing onto the acceleration, hands at ten and two. I was contemplating whether I wanted to turn on the radio when she began to talk again.

"By the way, Sara, I had meant to ask you how registration went. Did you get all the classes we wanted?"

Notice how the operative word was 'we'. As if she were going into the tenth grade with me. Since I wasn't allowed to snort, I rolled my eyes instead. "Most of 'em, sure."

I felt her eyes narrow at the back of my head. "What do you mean, 'most of them'? Which ones didn't you get?"

I pretended to be fascinated in the row of potted plants blurring past us on the sidewalks. "I got French and Algebra."

"And?"

"And PE. One more year of it and I'll be through."

"And?"

"English 2A."

"No honors?"

"The honors class was full. They said I could try to sign up next semester." A bit of a fib, I'll admit, but I had carefully angled my face so that Mom couldn't catch my reflection in the window.

Mom made a noise that sounded suspiciously snort-like. "Did you even bother trying to petition it? You know they always say that to weed out the undesirables. They only want the students that will fight for their right to be in that class!"

"I'm sorry I wasn't properly educated on high school politics. I thought I was just doing what they wanted me to do."

"No, you were just doing what you had to do to skate by. Just the bare minimum. Sheesh, Sara, you'd think you didn't _want_ to be in the best possible classes!"

_Yeah. I can't imagine why I'd ever think of such a thing. It's preposterous!_

"And I suppose you're going to tell me next that the US History Honors and Chemistry Honors are full, too?"

"Don't forget the Model UN class. I don't think they even looked at my application."

"Maybe if you tried _applying_ yourself in some of your classes, what you put on your application wouldn't look like such a joke."

"Maybe the joke's just not funny enough."

"Sara!"

In my head, I pictured myself butting my forehead against a brick wall. I was provoking her, and I knew it. Worst of all, I knew it was stupid. I know that Mom only wants the best for me, that's why she's pushing me so hard. I didn't know why I didn't really care about anything in my classes. I tried to pay attention, I tried to study, and I tried to do well. If not for myself, than for my mother. But I was doing nothing more than going through the motions. I couldn't muster up an ounce of motivation for anything remotely academic.

I couldn't tell what felt worse- the guilt or the apathy.

We spent the next ten blocks driving in silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom's ten and two slipping by a few minutes, sweat-clenched palms sliding further and further down the steering wheel. If I were brave enough to glance up at her face, I knew I'd find a murderous expression just waiting for a bumper to ram into. Suffice it to say, I wasn't brave enough.

School couldn't arrive fast enough. Mom maneuvered into the sea of mini-vans and school buses to secure a strip of red painted curb. She didn't bother to pull the lever to "P".

At first, I didn't move, compelled to say something to ease the tension nearly suffocating me in the car, but what, I hadn't the slightest clue. A 'sorry' would have been a nice start, but she's heard so many of those already that I wondered if it wouldn't simply make matters worse. Outside of apologies, I was still waiting for inspiration.

Finally, I decided to give myself a day to think it over. Maybe I could think of something brilliant to say in Algebra. Or maybe even Biology. I think we were supposed to watch a movie in Biology. That would be a good time to contemplate. I slowly reached for the handle and clicked the door open. Human and digimon students milled around like mad ants, either searching for an entrance or an escape.

I paused at the edge of this mass, glancing back at my mom, still staring ahead of her. My mouth was dry, my jaw ached to move, to help produce some sound, any sound. But all I could do was mutter, "See you later," and close the door. Without another word, Mom had the car geared into reverse, and she was shooting out of the traffic to rejoin the rest of the world. I watched the silver hood until I couldn't see it anymore, then turned to slowly walk up the steps into school.

* * *

Ever since they passed the Digimon Integration law nearly five years ago, our schools have been more crammed than ever. The volume of students at my high school alone had increased by nearly thirty percent.

But that was probably the only bad part. The good part was that with the new digimon students came new digimon teachers, as well. And PALO was making sure to fund every school participating in Digimon Integration so that the new transition would be as smooth as possible. While there were still those on the Board of Education or the community parent councils that disliked the idea of human and digimon children sharing facilities and resources, the extra money couldn't really be argued with.

Personally, I thought it was a great idea. Some of my best friends were digimon, and quite possibly the best teacher on campus was Mr. Leomon, who taught Digimon History and Politics to all freshman during their second semester. He was a master storyteller and made history seem like the most fascinating class in the world. So much so that US History, the class you take once you become a sophomore, becomes quite a let down in comparison.

Beside Mr. Leomon, I also had Mr. Monochromon for Algebra, and there were a pair of Floramon that served lunch in the cafeteria. Ever since they joined the staff, the food has tasted much better, so much so that the rumors spreading around about its preparation hardly seemed true. Whoever heard of a "brain dance" to make fruit smoothies?

"I wanna brain smoothie," I groaned, sinking into my seat at the back of the classroom.

"Your brain _is_ a smoothie, sometimes," said my friend Nicole. Beside her, Sarah McCullen and Otamamon nodded solemnly. "It gets mixed and minced and blended until you can't tell what going on in it anymore."

"Shut up."

"What happened this morning?" Otamamon asked. "I saw you get out of the car before school and your mom looked about ready to feed you to a Tyrannomon."

I absolutely adore Otamamon. She's very quiet and soft-spoken, but the sweetest digimon I've ever met. She has to sit on a booster chair and writes things with her paddle-like tail due to her lack of hands, but she's always the first to comfort in any sort of situation.

A forlorn sigh passed through my lips. "Mom wasn't happy with my selection of classes for next year."

"What do you mean?" asked Sarah M. "You've got great classes!"

"They're not good enough for her. They allow for too much sleep and free time and not enough stress, heavy text books and long-lasting effects on my college transcripts."

Nicole snorted. I instantly felt jealous of her freedom to do so. "So you're not going to be the cream of the crop. What else is new?"

Nicole has a very strange way of trying to cheer people up. It normally involves lots of ridicule and insulting. "Gee, thanks Nic."

"I wish I had your problem," Sarah M. said. "My mom is always so forgetful. Remember my volleyball game last Friday? After the game, our team went to that burger place near the park to celebrate our last game. Mom calls me at about nine, demanding to know where I was and what boy I was with!"

"My mother is sort of the same way," said Otamamon, "but it's difficult remembering one child when you have twenty-seven."

We all stared at her, stunned. Otamamon's gills went red and she looked away.

I sighed again. "If only that could be my problem. That mom would be so busy trying to tend to everyone else's lives that my non-honors classes and messy room would practically go unnoticed."

By this time, most of the rest of the class had filtered through the door and taken their seats. I noticed Biyomon among them and threw her a seething glare. The digimon merely smirked and fluttered to her desk. As Mrs. Gorsky entered the classroom and calmed us all down to begin her lecture, I contemplated revenge for this morning for the rest of the period.

* * *

With only a few weeks of school left, each day sort of took up the same kind of rhythm. Wake up. Go to school. Eat. Do more school things. Go home. Sleep. Not that we hadn't exercised the same routine throughout the year, of course. But the closer we came to summer, the more monotone everything else seemed to become. Everything around me fell into one or more categories of boring. Teachers' voices' became a soft buzzing noise directed toward the back of my head as I stared out the window. Walking down the hallway was a symphony of sounds that my ears had become desensitized to. Sights became blurs of light that sped passed me as if I stood still, just like the plotted plants on the sidewalk this morning.

It was moments like these that I felt apathy at its worst.

Before I knew it, school was over and I was on my way back home. It wasn't until I passed fifth street that the mute button was switched off, and everything came back into startling focus. I paused on the sidewalk, looking around as if I couldn't quite remember where I was or how I got there. A neon sign sitting in the window of a gift store acted as a GPS signal suddenly coming to life. Not only did I realize where I was, but I also was aware of the fact that I completely forgot to think about what I was going to say to mom when I got home. Chances were that she wouldn't even be home yet if she were working on a big case, but I didn't want that fact to stand in the way of me trying to be a better daughter. Procrastination is an ever vigilant parasite, looking for just such opportunities to leech time out from under me when I'm not looking.

I stood staring in the gift shop window, still wondering what I was going to do, when it came to me. Why do I have to think of anything myself? Why don't I just buy her a card that took care of that for me? Mom would appreciate the thoughtfulness no matter where it came from.

At once, I felt my chest swell and my heart lift. I was a genius! I strolled into the gift shop feeling like a Nobel Peace Prize nomination. The woman at the counter looked up and smiled at me. "Good afternoon, dear. Did you need any help?"

I smiled back. "No thanks. I'm just looking for a card for my mom."

"Oh, how sweet. Is it her birthday?"

"No, not quite. I just thought she deserved a card for being a great mom." _Forget Nobel Peace Prize, I deserve an Oscar! And the prize of best actress goes to…_

"Aren't you the cutest thing? You mother is very lucky to have a daughter as thoughtful as you." She pointed back toward the far corner of the shop. "You'll find all of our cards over there, and if you need any help, you can either ask me or Bakumon. He'll be floating around the back doing inventory."

"Thanks." A Bakumon working at a gift shop? Though I've never met a Bakumon myself, Mr. Leomon frequently described them in his class. Lessons on the many types of digimon that have immigrated to the Real World over the last thirty years were part of his curriculum. But I shrugged and went in the direction she had pointed.

It took me nearly a minute to find the cards. The display was quite small for a gift shop, so much that I passed it twice before I realized what I was looking at. It was only about four feet wide with ten rows of cards stacked up to a height just shorter than my 5' 4". Most of the cards were for birthdays, baby showers, and wedding receptions with a few graduation cards thrown in for the end of the school year. Already, I felt my heart deflate a bit. Buying a blank card would sort of defeat the purpose of buying a card in the first place.

Several minutes of digging finally brought up a single card with a bright pink envelope. On the front was a teddy bear holding a big bouquet of roses, some white and some red. On the inside, it said,

"Roses are red,

But sometimes they're white,

I know together,

We'll make things all right!"

While the poem was sort of lame, I thought the whole package was rather cute, and could picture my mom smiling at the hilarity of the idiotic little card. Besides, I could always write more in the blank white space, and it was the thought that counted after all. I stuck the card in the envelope and retraced my steps to the counter.

The woman smiled at me again. "Did you find a good one for your mother?"

I nodded. "I certainly hope so."

She had to take the card out in order the ring it up, so naturally, she had to open it and read the lame poem. I had to grind my teeth together to keep my jaw from dropping in shock when I saw a tear build up in the corner of her eye. "That is just so precious. I'm sure this will bring your mother to tears."

_Maybe if she laughs hard enough._ "I hope they'll be the good kind."

"I'm sure they will, dear. I'm sure they will." Her heart-felt smile made me feel the slightest bit guilty about making fun of the card. Maybe it's not as bad as I thought? Maybe it's just a mother thing, something I won't understand until I either have children or a dozen cats.

The woman wiped her eyes and began to type on her register. The card came out to ninety-nine cents. I gave her a dollar and told her to keep the change. I was feeling particularly charitable by now, and imagined a poor little boy with holes in his socks and dirt on his cheeks finding that single penny that would mean just enough money to buy his mother a special card. That single gesture nearly brought the woman in tears again. I quickly took my card, thanked her for her help, and started for the door.

That was the last time I _ever_ step foot in that shop again.

I passed through the doorway with my attention on the card. I walked over the rubber mat that said "Welcome" while pulling my backpack across my chest to tug on the zipper. The plan was that I would stow the card in my bag until I got home. If Mom was already there, I would give it to her with an apology for not having time to write anything else in there. That would earn me gratitude points for sure.

The zipper was stuck. Great. Yet something else to worry about. So, I automatically turned to my left to continue walking down the street, glaring at my bag to cooperate. The sidewalk felt springy under my feet. I glanced down and saw grass. Must have accidentally walked into a planter. One of many situated every ten feet along the sidewalk. I tried to adjust my direction so that I'd end up back on the pavement.

"Come on, you stupid thing, open!" I hissed. But the zipper apparently didn't take well to insults. I gave it once last tug, and heard a loud rip. The zipper pulled away, alright, along with a big chunk of canvas. Everything from my front pocket- including pencils, pens, highlighters, gum wrappers, paper clips, loose change, and a whole bunch of other small things normal people either put in the trash or in a pencil bag- suddenly burst from the bag and rained down on the ground like confetti.

I stood frozen, backpack still posed in my hand, staring at the mess littering the grass. A bottle of whiteout had somehow burst open in the madness, slowly seeping a small white lake into the dips and valleys of the ground. Some of the pens and pencils stood at odd angles, thrusting out of the dirt like spears. Everything else looked too unpoetic to describe.

Was this really my reward for trying to be good? Weeping cashier ladies and gravity suddenly attacking my backpack? Was this really necessary?

I felt a snort working its way through my throat and tried to hold it back. It fought me, brilliantly and relentlessly, but in the end I swallowed it back and let a weary sigh escape instead. Without another word, I sank to the ground, ignoring the grass stains seeping into my jeans, and began to silently gather everything up. The pens and pencils I plucked out first, followed by everything else I could see, grabbing handfuls of things at a time. There was nothing to be done about the whiteout, so I cleaned the bottle up as best as I could and screwed the lid back on. The white lake was the only evidence of my crime. If I get accosted for littering and sent to jail, maybe the judge will reduce my sentence on account of I was _trying_ to do a good thing for my mother.

It wasn't until I tried looking around for anything else I missed that I first realized something was wrong.

There was no sidewalk. I was suddenly aware of the fact that this planter I had stepped in was unusually large, for there was no pavement within my immediate sight. So that's when I looked up.

…there was no city, either.

Just grass.

And trees.

And mountains.

And smog-free sky.

I blinked. Then, I glanced back down at my backpack. Then, I looked back up again. All the natural things were still there.

I tried glancing behind me. Whatever doorway I went through was gone, now. Acres and acres of grassy plains took its place. As far as I could tell, there didn't look to be anything even remotely resembling civilized life anywhere.

My eyes went involuntarily back to my backpack. I noticed the white puddle still soaking into the earth. Frowning, I raised a finger and dipped it in the puddle. The tip came out white. Okay, so that made sense. A drop of white out fell from my finger to my pant leg. Gravity still works.

I lifted my head a third time, this time slowly and reluctant to see what I knew I would find. Endless seas of grass. Branches of huge, unidentifiable trees swaying in the wind. Dark mountains looming far off in the distance. Clouds gathering in puffy white armies as they charged across the sky.

This was where the sense ceased.

Something was working its way through my chest. I knew it wasn't a snort, because this was hardly the time for such a thing. But something was building, boiling, forcing its way from my stomach to my chest, up through the larynx to my throat. My mouth opened, my tongue flattened.

I screamed.

Long and loud and frightened and panicked I screamed. I turned to every corner and screamed at every unfamiliar thing I saw. I screamed at the trees over to my right. I screamed up at the sky. The huge grass field earned an especially loud scream because it was large and empty and absolutely nothing like the packed, bustling city I knew and loved and suddenly wanted more than anything else in the world. More than money, or fun, or comics, or anything else I could think of, I wanted to be home, because this bizarre place was certainly _not _home, and I didn't want it. Not any of it. And I screamed my fury and my fear out at the strange world that was not my home.

At least until the voice told me to stop.

_/Hey! HEY! Would you stop already!?/_


	2. The Quest

What is it about vacations that leave one feeling so... utterly exhausted? Is relaxing really that stressful. I just got back from a week in Maui, and I feel like a walking zombie... _without_ a tan, I might add, despite my best efforts...

And if that wasn't nearly enough, after thoroughly adjusting to the 3 hour time difference between California and Hawaii, upon finally arriving home and slumping across my bed at 2 am (11pm Hawaiin time)... I STILL WAKE UP AT 7 O'CLOCK IN THE BLOODY MORNING!! Yeah... my body is just involuntarily masochistic like that. If I were a superhero, that would be my superpower- going to sleep at virtually any time of night/twilight/morning... and miraculously waking at 7 every time.

Watch out, evil-doers, or you'll having my amazingly punctual consciousness to deal with.

Good grief, I'm sad, aren't I?

Anywho, props to the ONE reviewer... _scurries to check the name_ **purpledog100**! You made my day. This chapter is submitted in your honor.

Woot!

_Standard Disclaimer: Nearly all of the characters in this fiction are the property of whoever created the Digimon series (because I'm too lazy to go look it up myself). There are a few characters present that are my own originals, but they should be obvious enough to not require pointing out. Please don't sue me because you won't get much. I promise._

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**The Quest**

_/Hey! HEY! Would you stop already!?/_

I didn't stop because I was told to. I stopped because I was so startled to hear someone telling me to stop. I looked around wildly for the source of the voice, and felt confused when I found everything just as empty as it was before I started screaming. Then, the fear came back. Was it just me? Did I just imagine the voice? Am I imagining this whole place? Is that all this is, just an illusion?

Am I going crazy?

_/Thank goodness. If you kept that up, pretty soon you would pass out. We don't want that, now, do we?/_

_I must be going crazy,_ I thought. _Because I think that voice is coming from my backpack._

_/Now, I know all this is a little frightening, but you have to believe me when I say you're going to be okay, alright?/_

_Why in the world should I believe a disembodied voice telling me that I'm going to be okay?_

_/Speaking of which, would you mind telling me your name? It'll make things much easier./_

I stared at my backpack for all of a second before I suddenly hoisted it above my head and chucked it as far as I could- which amounted to a whopping ten feet. But I instantly started backpedaling away from it, eyes the size of half dollars, whimpering my way up to another good scream.

_/Hey, hey, now. Stop that! This is a pretty delicate piece of equipment! You can't just start throwing it around like that! There aren't very many of these things around, you know! I don't if you've ever heard of the phrase "You brake it, you bought it," but in this case-/_

"Y-your-r're a b-back-kpack lect-turing _me_ on-n valuab-bles!?" I stammered with some indignation. "M-my mom g-got you at-t a K-K-mart!"

There was a pause, and I felt a moment of hope. Does my backpack not talk when I start talking back to it?

But that hope was fleeting. The voice came back, this time sounding confused. /_Okay, now you're making no sense whatsoever. What do you mean, backpack? Does this thing _look_ like a backpack to you?/_

Never was there a greater desire for sarcasm than now. I forced myself to concentrate on the irritating voice and not the strange surroundings nor the fact that the voice was coming from an inanimate object. It gave me something to focus on to help control the panic. "No, you look like a fit-to-scale model of the Death Star. Of _course_ you're a backpack!"

There was another pause. /_…this is strange. You certainly _sound_ like a human… did I program the portal to the wrong dimension? I could have sworn I…/_ The voice fell into a series of incoherent mumblings, only some of which I could understand but nothing that made any sense to me. I stared at the backpack, wondering if it was going to start moving at any moment, when the voice suddenly came back with startling clarity. /_Ah hah! Now I understand the problem! I should have turned the video feed on./_

_Video feed?_

_/Okay, I think I get it now. I think the device somehow got into your backpack, but you didn't realize it, so you thought you were talking _to_ your backpack./_

"Oh, okay. Makes perfect sense, now." I wondered if glaring at my bag would make any difference.

/…_you're being sarcastic, aren't you?/_

_Oh, boy._

_/Look, just open whatever pocket of your bag you put the device into, and take it out. Then you'll see what I'm talking about./_

"Right, and I'm going to listen to the disembodied voice that kidnapped me because I'm a perfectly obedient and idiotic little child that does things like that. Sorry, I think you meant to take my little sister."

_/Hey, I didn't kidnap you!... not really, anyway./_

I leapt on that almost-confession. "So you _did_ kidnap me! So, after all those years of junior high, drawing and dropping and dragging you around by your straps, you just up and decide to _kidnap_ me!?"

_/What? What are you-… look, I am _not_ your backpack! If you would just stop complaining and open the stupid pocket, I can explain everything./_

I was beginning to think that this was not my backpack speaking. "Why can't you explain everything from where you are right now? How am I supposed to trust the word of a guy that can't even get himself out of a stupid backpack?"

I heard what sounded like one of my mother's exasperated sighs. /_Look, first of all, I'm not the one that's in your backpack. The device is. Second, I can try to explain everything to you, but it will make more sense if you can at least see the analyzer yourself. Understand?/_

"No," I said curtly. "I don't understand any of this. Why you kidnapped me. Wherever the hell I am. Who in the world _you_ are, or why you are talking to me through some 'device' in my backpack."

_/I don't know how the device ended up in your backpack. But I can assure you that I can explain everything else if you'll just give me the chance. I promise I do not want to hurt you and I do not want to continue arguing with you. Frankly, I don't have the time for it, and we've wasted enough as it is./_

"What are you talking about?"

_/Open your backpack and you'll find out./_

By this time, I was convinced that my backpack had _not_ suddenly come to life. And, in a really bizarre way, the voice was helping me begin to come terms with what was going on. I had been kidnapped, regardless of the statements made otherwise. Where I am had not been established, but I assumed it was done by a digimon. That comment made about "humans" did not go unnoticed. And whoever the voice was seemed to be a bit of a dork, but it didn't _sound_ evil. Granted, they never do, do they?

But really, what more harm could be done by opening my own backpack? I'm already stuck in the middle of nowhere with little chance of rescue or escape. The thought of rescue brought to mind my mother, and how worried she will be when she realizes what has happened to me. Will there be a ransom? Could this be because of Mom's case? Or what if it was all part of some huge scheme to grant the digimon more rights in the real world? What on earth have I gotten myself into?

_/Are you opening the backpack, now? The visual optics in the analyzer weren't completely finished when you arrived, so I can only see some of the time, and not very clearly at that./_

At this point, I decided that I was in a pretty bad position, and any amount of information could only serve to help me at this point. So, I slowly crawled forward, always keeping my eye on the backpack, alert for any sudden movements. In the middle of the field as I was, it was easy enough to spot anyone approaching me had this been some sort of trap. Which, as I thought about it, didn't seem likely. Why set me up with a trap only to be part of another one?

_Thank you Carolyn Keene,_ I thought as I made my way to the backpack. If the voice were right about this… device thing somehow finding its way into one of the pockets, it would probably be in the front one that held all the things that had fallen out earlier. It was possible that I grabbed something without meaning to and shoved it in with everything else. But the prospect of looking kind of scared me.

_/Hello! Is anybody still there?/_

"Hold your horses, I'm getting to it!" I snapped.

I heard what sounded like a snort. /_You know, I've had plenty of experiences with humans before- more than most, I'd say- but none as difficult as you./_

"You're starting to sound like my mother," I retorted, easing back the clump of zipper and canvas that had been ripped away. I had to tilt the backpack at an angle so nothing would fall out.

The voice continued speaking as if it didn't hear me. /_None of them were ever this ornery. A little thick-headed at times, sure, but never so-/_

"Wait a minute, would you?" His voice- I was pretty sure it was a guy, at least- definitely sounded louder, and I used a finger to stir through the junk trying to find the source. Sure enough, I spotted something silver poke its way through my masses of colored pencils. That had to be the device he was talking about.

"I think I found it." I reached for the silver something and pulled it out of the pile. It felt cool to the touch, almost like metal, but when I lifted it, I was suddenly reminded of plastic for its lightness.

_/Are you sure?/_

The voice was coming from a small speaker on the underside of the device. "Positive." I stuffed the corner of the pocket as best as I could and shoved the backpack away to get a good look at this 'analyzer'.

The best thing I could compare it to would probably be a walkie-talkie. It had a organic, bean-shape to it unlike the boxed varieties I was used to, and there was clearly a speaker toward the bottom end when I held it in my palm. A pretty good one, too, if the voice could hear me through the canvas bag and assorted supplies from over a few feet away.

But that was where the similarities ended. The surface was metallic, as I had originally thought, but very very thin with a pattern of lines and circles etched into it that reminded me of a computer chip. The pattern seemed to glow, or else it was done with a sort of pearly luminescent paint, because the lines and circles shone different colors when I held the device up at different angles. There was also a small square screen in the center that was racing with columns of numbers in undecipherable patterns. Other than the screen, there was nothing that resembled any sort of technological function. No buttons, no wires, no sockets to plug anything into. I found a small light bulb that blinked occasionally at the very top, but that was it. The whole thing was a little bigger than a cell phone and fit snugly into the curve of my palm.

"So this is your delicate piece of equipment, is it?" I asked.

_/Indeed. It's very very special. So much so, that there are only a handful of them to be found anywhere in either world./_

"Either world? You mean, the real world or the Digital World?"

_/Precisely. Tell me, what do you know of the current condition of the Digital World?/_

I frowned at the device but felt my brain wracking for the bits and pieces I remembered from what my mom and Mr. Leomon had told me. "Current condition? Well, I know humans aren't allowed in it. Not without applying and being approved for special permits from the government, no matter which government it is. It's a world rule, now. The only ones on the other side are the researchers, and I don't have the slightest clue what they're researching, either."

_/They've been coming to the Digital World for years, ever since the global event with VenomMyotismon that had exposed it and digimon to the rest of the world. They're trying to understand its structure and function, and the development of data into tangible material. But that's not the point, exactly. What about digimon? What do you know about them?/_

"I thought you were supposed to be the one answering the questions."

_/I'm sorry, but the more I know what you already know, the more I'll be able to figure out what and how to explain to you. I don't want to have to explain something you may already know, and conversely, talk about something you may not understand yet./_

_Makes sense, I suppose. _"Well, like you said, after the Great Digimon War, digimon were allowed to cross into our side. They were given rights, and allowed jobs and homes like regular citizens. I go to an integrated school where many of the students, some of them my friends, are digimon."

_/And when their visas expire?/_

I blinked, startled. I suppose I never gave thought to what happened when the visas expired. I suddenly wondered about Otamamon, who was born here in the States, but whose digi-egg had to be transported from the Digital World. "Well, I guess they'd just get them renewed, wouldn't they? Or else they'd have to go back to the Digital World."

The voice paused before speaking. /_Actually, that is only partially true. When a digimon who has been invited to the human world finds that their visa has expired, they are transported to a special facility available for digimon who are waiting for their approval process to be completed. They are not physically allowed to return to the Digital World./_

This was something new. "Why? Shouldn't they be allowed to return if they want?"

Another pause. /_It's not quite so much a matter of permission… as it is a matter of safety._

This time, I expected the pause that came and I knew exactly what it was for. It was giv/ing me time to react. _Safety? What is there to be worried about safety for in the Digital World?_ "I don't get it. Sure, the Digital World isn't the safest place, but it can't be so bad that digimon themselves can't go back. It's like taking a rehabilitated animal back into the wild- do digimon just not know how to take care of themselves anymore?"

_/That is not the case at all, I assure you. And before you ask, there are no evil digimon factions running amok here in the Digital World, either./_

Well, since that _was_ going to be my next question, I breathed a sigh of relief. I remembered every single one of Mr. Leomon's lectures on the many wars fought, including the few that were instigated by the evil digimon lord, Myotismon. The thought alone sent shivers down my spine. I tried to shake my head to clear my mind of the irrational fears. "So, if it's not all that, then why is it unsafe in the Digital World?"

Silence.

"Hello. Are you still there?"

_/I am./_

"Well?"

_/Well, to be completely honest, I don't know what's wrong./_

"I see. That certainly explains everything."

_/Or rather, I know what's wrong, I just don't know why it's happening./_

"Okay. Care to share?"

_/This actually goes into a little bit of the research being conducted by the different organizations that have sent research teams into the Digital World. They were honestly the first to discover the problem, and they are working with the digimon leaders to devise a solution./_

I leveled a glare at the analyzer. "You're purposely avoiding the heart of the problem by talking around it."

I heard another sigh. _Ah hah! I was right! /For some reason, the digimon in the Digital World are losing the ability to digivolve, and nobody knows why./_

…well, _that_ wasn't what I expected to hear.

_/We can't tell for sure, but it must have started at least three or four years ago. That's the earliest anyone's been able to trace the problem. Digimon just suddenly stopped digivolving. Over fifty percent of the Digital World's population is made up of infantile digimon, now, incapable of developing into their other forms../_

"And you think it is something in the Digital World that is causing this?"

_/It can't be anything else. Our data shows that Digimon introduced into the real world prior to that point have matured and digivolved just fine. And many of the digimon that had lost the ability were once again able to digivolve once they were removed from the digital environment./_

"Why not just let all the digimon cross over into the real world, then? Get them all back to normal?"

_/Because of many reasons. First of all, your world is not equipped to provide for the sheer volume of digital immigrants that are suffering from this problem. Digimon nearly outnumber humans in their total population. And secondly, whatever it was that had allowed infected digimon to digivolve outside of the Digital World is gone now. Whatever it is that is plaguing them is now being carried over to the real world. We're trying to isolate the problem, but what with digimon trafficking and smuggling, we can't control it, and we don't even know if it's contagious or not, let alone if it might somehow affect the humans./_

This was all a bit overwhelming. Again, I thought about Otamamon. All she ever talked about was someday digivolving into a Seadramon when she grew up, even though it was more likely she'd end up as a Geckomon. "You keep saying things like 'infected' and 'contagious'. Are you saying you think it's some sort of disease?"

_/To be more specific, we think it may be some sort of virus. A kind of virus that is affecting our data. But there has been no precedence for an epidemic of this magnitude, so no one knows the first place to start looking for a cure. We're afraid that at this rate, every Digimon in both worlds will be unable to digivolve and thusly, almost eradicating us all./_

I had a feeling that this was all coming to some big climax and that I wasn't going to like it one bit. There was still one major issue he had yet to address, and I was extremely nervous to bring it up myself. "Okay, I think I understand all that. But throughout this all, I've noticed that you've neglected to bring up possibly the most important matter- what does all this have to do with me?"

There was another pause, and what sounded like a light chuckle. /_I had a feeling you would work your way to this eventually./_

_Oh boy._ "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

_/It depends. Do you know what a digivice is?/_

I wanted to roll my eyes again. "What kid _doesn't_ know? It's the device that the twelve digi-destined used to defeat VenomMyotismon during the Great Digimon war."

_/Technically, there were hundreds of digi-destined involved in that war./_

"Technically."

_/Do you know what a digivice looks like?/_

"Well, no."

_/Try looking in your hands./_

I frowned, confused. The only thing in my hands was the analyzer. What did he mean by-

"Holy cow!" I yelped, dropping the analyzer like a hot plate. "You're telling me _that's_ a digivice!?"

_/Yes./_

"But you said it was just a device! An analyzer!"

_/I never said it was "just" a device. I said it was a special device. One of only a few in either worlds, remember? And it is, indeed, an analyzer./_

"But you said-"

_/I know exactly what I said. And I'm telling you this all again. What you have in your hands is a digivice./_

_Well, it's not exactly in my hands anymore. _"But-"

_/Oh, you and your 'but's! Listen, a digimon is allowed to digivolve when the conditions are appropriate. Although, in a normal digimon, the digivolution is permanent, at least until they complete their life cycle and return to their egg state. However, in the case of the digi-destined, their partners were specially coded to respond to the mechanism in the digivice that manipulated their data into digivolving when the situation called for it. That's why each digi-destined was partnered with one digimon for which their digivice would respond to and only that digimon. Do you understand?/_

I was still freaked out at the fact that that _thing_ was a digivice, but I nodded anyway. It took a while before I realized that he wasn't responding to the gesture. "Um, yeah. Mostly, anyway."

_/Good enough. Now, _this_ digivice has been modified to serve our purposes in relation to the digivolution epidemic. It is indeed an analyzer in that it is programmed to read the coded data of whatever it is you direct it to read. You can point it to a tree, and it will recite the data code that enables that particular strand of data to be a tree. Same with a rock, or a blade of grass, or anything./_

Here I had to interrupt. "But wait a minute, wouldn't that only work if I were in the Digital World? I mean, it couldn't work on regular trees and rocks and stuff that's not made of data, right?"

_/Correct./_

"Right."

I was waiting for a more thorough explanation.

When he spoke, he sounded almost amused. /_…exactly where is it that you think you are?/_

That's when it sunk in. He had been hinting at it this entire time, but only now did I finally understand. "I'M IN THE _DIGITAL WORLD!?_"

_/Please don't start your hysterics again. I still have much to explain./_

"You _kidnapped _me and brought me to the _Digital World!?_"

_/Can we move on, please?/_

"But.. but I'm… _in the Digital World!!_"

_/Are you done, yet?/_

I continued gaping at the analyzer- at the digivice- for a while longer before I finally mustered enough of my dignity to ease my mouth shut and attempt to clear my suddenly dry throat. I looked around at the scenery around me with a wholly new perspective, my feeling an immeasurable combination of terror and curiosity.

_/Thank you. Now… goodness, I forgot what I was talking about./_

"Digivices," I croaked.

_/Oh, that's right. Anyway, in the Digital World, data is like DNA. Specific coding and sequencing is the only real differentiation between a Greymon and a Seadramon and a meat-apple tree. The analyzer is programmed to read and recite the specific sequencing present in everything you see. In the case of digimon, the analyzer will not only provide the digimon's code, but it will interpret it and access its database to give you as much information as it can find about the species of digimon./_

"Like a scanner reading a barcode," I said with slightly more success. I was busy staring at a blade of grass I had plucked, marveling at the fact that it was somehow made of data.

The voice sounded pleased by my analogy. /_Exactly! And, of course, as a digivice, it has its usual digivolving capabilities. However, it has been modified to allow any digimon within proximity to digivolve, not just one particular digimon partner./_

"So you can figure out which digimon is infected with the virus and which one isn't."

_/That's right. We're hoping to study the progression of the virus to figure out its source, and how it's affecting the digital body./_

"So a digimon wanders by, gets close enough to the digivice, and boom! Digivolution?"

_/Well, not quite. We cannot alter the situational conditioning of the digivice./_

"But the second generation of original digi-destined were able to do it, weren't they? I read all of their biographies and saw the movies they made about them."

_/That was different. That involved using the natural ability of a set of digi-eggs to overwrite the situational conditioning through a process called armor digivolving. It was a unique circumstance due to the nature of the digi-eggs which we've been unable to replicate./_

"And… I'm assuming you want _me_ to do all this hunting down for you, right?"

_/That was the plan./_

"Why me? Why was I chosen?" I wanted to know.

…

"Are you going to answer?"

_/To be completely honest, you weren't chosen. Not exactly. I knew I needed a subject to handle the digivice- an organic human subject who wouldn't be composed of data to compromise the analyzing process- so I set up several portals around your world in doorways and enclosed spaces that would transport a human across to the Digital World. The planning alone took months, and the preparation was lengthy as well. You just happened to be the first human the cross one of the portals./_

That's a bit… disheartening. "In other words, I was just the first dumb human to fall into one of your clever traps."

_/I wouldn't put it like that./_

"It must have been the gift shop door. How long were the portals opened before I walked through?"

_/Approximately three minutes and seventeen seconds./_

"So there was no portal when I walked into the gift shop, but by the time I had left, it was set up and waiting to kidnap me."

_/I didn't quite mean to kidnap you. Once we've collected the data we need, you'll return to your world without a scratch on you./_

"What about the other portals. Did they capture any human children, as well?"

_/No. I programmed the portals to deactivate the moment one life form had passed through any of them./_

"I see."

_/…not that I'm complaining, but you sound like you're taking all this remarkably well./_

I wanted to laugh. "You obviously don't know me that well, otherwise you'd realize I was just preparing for a tantrum."

/…_oh dear./_

"How DARE you!?" I screamed, pointing an accusing finger at the digivice. "How _freaking dare_ you!? You up and snatch me off the street like you have the _right_ to do so, not only of me, but of _anyone_! You take me from my life, my family- hell, you take me from my own _world_! Not even because you need me, or need some skill of mine, but because I was the stupid rat that went after the cheese!"

This tantrum was too powerful to be conducted on the ground. I leapt to my feet and began to pace, shouting angrily at the digivice. "Hell, there wasn't even any cheese, was there? I just happened to be the most unlucky girl- no, most unlucky _kid_ in the entirety of the world. Strolling through a random doorway at exactly the wrong moment. Of all the doorways in the world, you happened to chose that stupid little gift shop. The gift shop I probably wouldn't have even walked into if I hadn't gotten into a fight with my mom this morning. Or maybe if I actually spent time in Biology thinking about what I would say to her, I wouldn't have felt the need to buy her that lame card. Or maybe I should have spent more time looking for another card, instead of giving up after the first half-decent poem that wasn't about birthdays or graduation. Crap, Mom was right! That's all I ever do is skate by! If I hadn't just skated by on getting her a card, maybe I would have stayed in the shop long enough for someone else to go through one of those stupid portals."

"But no. No, I had to do just the bare minimum. I had to get away from that weird lady that kept crying. I had to be the first one to cross through the portal. Now, I'm stuck here to do your dirty work. Thanks to you. Thanks _completely_ to you."

At this point, I had all but exhausted myself of all my irrational arguments. Anything I said after this point would just make too much sense. The point of tantrums was not to make sense. It was with this non-logic that I finally stopped shouting.

That, and the fact that I really needed to breathe.

I collapsed in a tired heap near my backpack, letting my head rest against the canvas and supplies and textbooks. My eyes drifted upward to stare at the vast expanse of sky, and at the puffy white clouds, made up of condensed vapor from water droplets, each racing with ribbons of number coded data. Mr. Leomon had described the Digital World in vivid detail with his best storyteller's voice, but seeing the real thing with the foreknowledge of what the voice had just told me was something else altogether.

This was the nature of most of my tantrums- I find myself at my most reasonable right after working myself into a mad frenzy.

_/May I ask you what you're name is?/_

I noticed a small dot moving across the sky. Was it some sort of bird digimon? Or maybe one of the megas that decided together to remain in the Digital World after the Treaty of the Worlds.

"It's Sara. Sara Warren. From California."

_/Very well. Sara Warren from California. I am sincerely sorry for asking this task of you. But I am. Because whatever it is you might find may be the last hope for digimon everywhere. On behalf of my small group and the association of PALO and its representatives, I'm begging you for your help./_

Are there ants in the digital world? Digimon ants? I've never heard of them before, but you never know, right?

"Would you bring me back home if I said no?"

_/I'm afraid I cannot. World barrier portals are under great scrutiny now more than ever, and it took ages to arrange for an opportunity to even open those that I did. Even if I wanted to plan to open another portal, if only one, it'd take weeks if not months for another opportunity to do so without your governments taking notice. All my actions up until now have been conducted under utmost secrecy. We cannot afford to let anyone know about what I'm up to./_

"Why not? Is PALO really behind all of this?"

_/Not officially, no. Some higher ranking members of the organization know about what I'm doing, but they aren't really involved. I'm strictly working with several others independently. And if anyone were to learn the unusual capabilities of that digivice of yours- that it can essentially control the digivolution of any digimon within range- everyone will be clamoring for the technology./_

"One of those 'if it falls into the wrong hands, it will spell our certain doom' kind of things, is it?"

_/Unfortunately./_

My stomach grumbled. I haven't had anything to eat since the Floramon brain smoothie at lunch.

"And how am I supposed to get home, even if I do find the information you need?"

_/In that time, I should have the preparations necessary to return you to your world./_

"And what about my family? My mom and little sister? Will they know where I am?"

_/No one on the other side is to know what you're up to./_

"So I really don't have that much of a choice one way or the other, do I?"

_/We are out of any other options, I'm afraid. If there was another choice I could give you, I would give it in a heartbeat./_

I nodded numbly. "You know I hate you, right?"

_/I do not blame you whatsoever./_

"I may not sound like it, but I think I hate you more than anyone else I've ever hated in my life."

_/I completely understand./_

There was really nothing more to be said, was there? A part of me desired a more proper sense of closure, but I couldn't think of what more I could express.

"What am I supposed to call you, anyway?" I suddenly asked. For in this whole time, all I ever did was think of him as 'the voice'.

_/Name? Um… I…/_ There was some incoherent fumbling around, and I almost wanted to laugh. /_Uh… I suppose if you have to call me something, you can call me Dix./_

"Dix?"

_/Um… yes. Yes, call me Dix./_

"…okay, fine. Dix?"

_/…yes?/_

"Go to hell."

* * *

AN: For the record, Dix's communications were _supposed_ to be inbetween the sideways arrow-like triangle thingies above the period and comma (does anyone know what they're called?) But the Document thinger in Fanfiction decided to wrap 'em all up in pint-sized invisibility cloaks. So there you have it. If it's hard to follow the flow of conversation, it's not my fault.

7/1/08 Edit: Okay, so me and this site have been undergoing this whole dissapearing-symbols battle for about five minutes now, and we've come to a sort of truce. Although, truthfully, it's not that much of a truce- it's just the only thing that it'll allow me to keep on the page. I've tried brakets, the straight brakety-looking things, and something else but I can't remember it, but at last I have found a solution. Apparently, they will permit one (not two, I tried, since it looked better) backward slash mark- or is it a forward slash mark? I can't tell- so from now on, that shall dictate when Dix (or anyone else who may, in the future, use Dix's communicator) is speaking. Sorry for the confusion.

Oh, and by the way- for anyone who didn't know it off the top of their heads like I, a total and complete moron, do, Carolyn Keene is the author of the Nancy Drew books. Just FYI.

* * *


	3. Little Black Blob

Shall I just declare this PurpleDog's corner? Since he (she?) seems to be the only one reading thus far, I might as well save myself the effort and talk to you directly.

And might I just say, you make for a fabulous reader! You're picking up on a whole bunch of elements to this story that I had purposely placed there such as the solo "digi-destined", the lack of partner, the lack of obvious enemies. Most people would just say "Nice story, update soon." But you make for a delightful audience!

I've always enjoyed _Digimon_, why I cannot say, but what bugged me was indeed the predictability of it. It was purposefully targeted toward a 7-10 year old audience, so subtlety wasn't exactly a necessity. But I wanted to attempt to add a bit of maturity to the concept of _Digimon_ without making it necessarily all about sex, violence and what have you. The intent is that there will be more plot weaving in this, so it can be enjoyed by an older audience _without_ forgetting that this is meant to be a kids show. And I envisioned it to be a long-running story instead of a bunch of individual episodes with a separate adventure taking place each day. Another element that tended to bother me.

Anywho, I'm glad you're enjoying this, and I expect your input on each chapter! Both positive and negative. It's hard to find good, honest reviewers in such public places as these.

And, for the record, this is the last of my saved chapters being posted, so following chapters will take a helluva lot longer to come about. But they will come!

Hope you like.

_Standard Disclaimer: Nearly all of the characters in this fiction are the property of whoever created the Digimon series (because I'm too lazy to go look it up myself). There are a few characters present that are my own originals, but they should be obvious enough to not require pointing out. Please don't sue me because you won't get much. I promise._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Little Black Blob**

* * *

It took about an hour of walking for that little grumble of hunger to swell into a fierce, all encompassing ache for food. The digivice- I cringed at the thought of calling it mine- hung off of my house key chain that I had clipped to my belt loop. Many times had I considered using it to whine to Dix, but it would feel too much like an admission of defeat. Besides, ever since that last parting comment, he had fallen suspiciously silent, and I hated to break that blessed peacefulness now.

Besides, complaining doesn't convert to data that magically codes itself into food.

I glared at the digivice at my hip. "Lot of good _you_ do me."

How in the world was I supposed to find these unaffected digimon anyway? As far as I've seen, there are no digimon in the Digital World. Not in this area, anyway. I was beginning to think that there was no such thing as a Digital World, that it was all a hoax.

Not that I was really giving any serious thought to looking for any virus or digimon, anyway. Let that stupid Dix think what he wants. I was looking for a way back home. Back to the world of humans- and of lawsuits. Soon as I find out who Dix really was, he'd be looking at a whole new kind of trouble. Spelled with a capital "S". Stupid, booger-brained, jerk-faced, kidnapping butthead!

I want my lawyer. I want my mom. I want a double cheeseburger with jalapenos.

But, without any of these things, nor any real idea as to how I was getting home, I had no other choice but to continue walking.

By now, I had made it across the grass field and was working my way through the dense forest. I hadn't the slightest clue whether there was a north, south, and all the rest in the Digital World, but I figured that without any idea of where I was supposed to go anyway, finding a direction with a name on it did me little good. I kept my eyes on the trees and on the bushes, hoping for any sort of berry or fruit or mushroom. Mr. Leomon never mentioned anything about cheeseburgers in the Digital World.

My backpack felt like a lead weight on my back. Biology, Math and English never felt so overbearing. I thought about ditching them under some bush or other many times, but every time I turned to un-zipper the bag, I'd catch myself in a moment of doubt.

When I got out of here- not "if", but "when" I frequently had to tell myself- I'd have to return them to the library. So until then, I was going to hang onto them and take care of them as best as I was able.

And in the meantime, maybe I'd get a six-pack.

"Something tells me that getting enough exercise won't be a problem in this place," I muttered, shoving a low-lying branch out of my way.

The farther I walked into the forest, the thicker it became. Traveling became harder and as I picked my way through the underbrush, I stopped making good time. Everything with a pointy tip seemed to gravitate toward my t-shirt, tugging and clinging and making small rips everywhere. I looked like I just got beat up by a cactus. And let's not even start on my poor, delicate skin. Cotton and denim aren't exactly the greatest protection against the forest's prickly minions.

When I thought I was finally going to be eaten up by thorns, I shoved my way in between two huge shrubs and found myself thrusting forward into open space. I fell to my knees in shock, cautious hope creeping in my chest. Was I actually out?

Nope. I looked up into the open sky of a large clearing of long grasses and tiny white flowers. Surrounding it all was more trees, looking every bit as intimidating as the ones I had just escaped. Wonderful.

"Can't anything in this place be easy?"

"Bu!"

Without thinking about it, I screamed. Whatever it was that made that sound, it was hiding somewhere in the tall grasses, and the fact that I couldn't see it creeped me out to no end. I flipped to my butt and scooted back, screaming like a banshee. The mysterious creature, wherever it was, screamed a chorus of 'bu's' in response. Within the small clearing, both of our yells echoed off of each other horribly.

I was the first to gather my wits enough to realize how utterly unproductive this was. I swallowed my scream back with a bit of effort, and prayed my assailant would do the same. Sure enough, after a few seconds, the 'bu's' faded into silence until only the swaying of the grasses could be heard.

_So far so good._ "O-okay, n-now whoev-v-ver y-you ar-re, c-come out-t nice and-nd s-slowl-ly!" I demanded in my bravest voice.

At first nothing. Grass swayed. Branches bended. I strained my ears for any sign of movement. I thought I heard the crunch of dirt underfoot, but as soon as my head whipped around, there was silence once again.

"I m-mean it!"

There! This time, I knew I heard it. A soft 'bu' from somewhere just to my left. I focused my attention on the area and waited. Soon enough, my patience was rewarded. I caught grasses moving back and forth as if something small were moving through it and the dirt crunching was back. I prepared myself for the worst-

-and was caught off guard when I saw a black ball roll forward.

I was scared of a _ball_?

_A ball that is moving on its own_, I reminded myself, watching it continue to approach. I scooted back another foot or two as it got closer. The ball finally stopped just out of my reach, and seemed to deflate as it rested.

"Bu," it whimpered.

It was a little less threatening when I actually got a good look at it. And, after a moment's thoughtful observation, the ball began to twitch. Two black triangles somehow maneuvered themselves around to the top of the ball and I suddenly found myself staring at two blinking yellow orbs in the center. Ears and eyes?

This was a digimon?

"Buuu."

That's when my girly instincts took over.

"Awwww, you're so _cute_!" I squealed. My hands moved of their own will to scoop up the grapefruit-sized baby digimon and secure it within my arms. At first, I felt the black ball tremble nervously. But once it realized what was going on, it quickly picked up the cues and started snuggling into my chest.

"Bu bu buuuuu!" it said.

"I know, I know, it's okay. I guess we kind of scared each other, didn't we?" As I talked and stroked its back, my mind was racing back to Mr. Leomon's lessons, trying to identify the baby digimon. At least I knew it _was_ a baby. And the more I looked at it, the more I knew it looked familiar. Why oh why couldn't I have stuck my Digimon History textbook in my backpack?

"Oh, wait a minute!" Suddenly I remembered my new trinket attached at my hip. What did Dix say about that thing? Something about digimon and analyzing and blah blah blah. I readjusted the little black thing to one arm and used the other to reach for the digivice. "I think it was something like if I hold this thing up to a digimon like you, it'll do its analyzing thing and tell me more about you."

It took a little fumbling before I could snap the digivice off of my keychain, but once I had it in my palm, I had to figure out what to do next. The screen was still running its vertical columns of numbers, and there were no buttons or switches to fiddle with. If Dix was such a genius as to come up with this thing, would it really have killed him to write a set of instructions? The little black digimon stared with mute fascination at the shiny object in my hand.

I glared at the digivice sullenly. "Why must you be so difficult? Come 'ere, cutie."

The little guy (or girl, I certainly couldn't tell) protested a little when I tried to detach him (her) from my arm, but as I set him (her) back on the ground I made sure to run a finger over… _its_ head to soothe it back into silence. "Maybe if I point it at you, it'll do something," I explained, aiming the little light bulb directly at the digimon.

Nothing happened. I tried to adjust the angle to coax some sort of reaction. But the only thing that changed was that the numbers started moving horizontally instead of vertically. That was something, I'll admit, but it was still just a load of numbers. This couldn't have been what Dix meant by providing information, right?

"Ah, screw this. It's probably defective, anyway," I told the baby digimon, fixing the digivice back to my hip..

"Bu," it said.

"Bu," I said back. It gave me a speculative look, and I wondered what was going through that little mind. I reached out to rub a finger in between its ears, and I was rewarded with a vibrating purr. My stomach grumbled, and the digimon stared at it in awe. I giggled. "I don't suppose you know where to find some food, do you?"

It was like waving a red flag in front of a bull- all of a sudden, there was a flurry of action. The little black guy started hopping and rolling and throwing a trill of "bu's" in my ear. It butted softly against my side and my legs, and I stared at it wonderingly.

"What? What did I say?"

"Bu! Bu bu buuuu!"

Could it be? Please, dear God, let it be. "Do you know where I can get some food?" I asked hopefully.

"Bu bu!" it said firmly.

I wasn't an expert translator in digimonese, but I was willing to take that as a 'yes'. As I pushed myself to my feet, the baby digimon stopped butting me and started hopping away. It paused several feet away, jumping in place and 'bu-ing' impatiently at me. Clearly a command to follow.

"Okay, okay, hold your horses." I readjusted the backpack on my shoulders and started following the black blob bobbing above the grass into the forest. As a tiny black thing, it certainly had the advantage moving through the dense foliage. I swear I could hear the impatience in its "bu's".

We traveled in this way for what felt like hours but was more likely about thirty minutes. I could tell we were moving straight through the forest as the going became easier and easier the father we went. The digimon's eagerness was becoming more and more apparent, too. Now that I could move faster, it too started speeding up as if it couldn't wait to get to wherever it was leading me. I was astounded by how fast the black blob could bounce. And I'll admit, I wasn't solely motivated by my stomach, either. I was curious. The daunting threat of the Digital World was fading as my original fascination came back, cautiously and optimistically. There was, after all, a slight chance that this whole ordeal might not suck as much as I had originally thought.

It was the voices that first alerted me of our destination. Murmured sounds rising and falling, faint with distance but growing stronger as we pushed on. Within a minute, they started sounding like a dozen or so voices. After two, they sounded more like a thousand. Little Black Blob no longer had to encourage me to move- my own curiosity was pushing me on, now. I made it through the last thin line of trees and turned around the side of a huge boulder before I saw it.

It was a village, of sorts. Small rounded huts no higher than my armpits were shoved next to each other in packs. They were hardly anything fancy- mud domes with a hole to serve as a door. The holes were just big enough to fit a basketball through- or a little blob-like digimon.

Or an army of blob-like digimon.

I stood next to my little black blob, staring in stupefied shock. There were hundreds- possibly thousands- of assorted eyes staring up at me. Various blobs were assembled among the mud huts and across the plains- white ones, pink ones, blue ones with beady black eyes staring out from underneath long grey beards. There were even a bunch of digimon that looked just like my little black friend.

Only they didn't look nearly as friendly.

The chatter and commotion was gone. Silence loomed like a shadow, dark and foreboding. I took a hesitant step back from the audience of tense spectators. Little Black Blob made a happy chirping sound and started bouncing forward to join its friends. And I suddenly found myself without a defender.

I felt the first strike bounce against my cheek. Glancing down, I saw a little pebble bounce off into the grass. With my head down, the next pebble caught me right on my crown. Two more struck against my shoulder and chest and the third got my head again. And that was the only warning I got.

Suddenly, the sky opened up and started raining pebbles over me. I held my arms above my head, and they successfully managed to ward off about five of the thousand stones chucked at me. I thought I heard some indignant "bu-ing", but was too distracted to take much notice. Before I turned into a human-sized lump of Swiss cheese, I quickly retreated back into the forest leaving Little Black Blob behind. It's chances were certainly a helluva lot better than mine.

I ran about as far as I thought was safe. No one appeared to be following, not even Little Black Blob. I was once again on my own, and I was once again without any hope of food.

By this time, my hunger was beginning to get the better of me. I thought about walking some more, but instantly shot that idea down. Now that I didn't have a meal to look forward to anymore, my motivation was all but extinguished and my energy along with it. I slid my backpack off my shoulders to the ground and plopped my butt on top of it. A yawn worked its way free of my jaws and I felt my head tilting back to lean against the trunk of a tree. If I couldn't have any food, then I would have to accept a nap as a meager substitute. After my terrifying kidnapping, the exhausting tantrum, and my near two-hour trek, I thought it was well enough deserved.

I think I made it through maybe two of my necessary forty winks when I heard the first of the screams.

They were high pitched and blood-curdling and terrifying to listen to. My eyes snapped open and I nearly pitched face-first trying to scramble to my feet. But I somehow managed to wobble up and start stumbling forward until I found myself running back toward the baby digimon village. My backpack was left behind to hold down the fort.

I was running to Little Black Blob's rescue.

As I ran, I wondered about what could have possibly changed during my short absence. Were the little blobs revolting? Were they mad that my black guy led me to them? Or was it something else? Here in the Digital World, I realized that "something else" covered a disturbingly large scope, and my chicken heart began to whine that it wanted to go back to the backpack even as my feet kept moving forward.

Through the forest I stumbled and made my way, shoving through the underbrush when it tried to hold me back. It was hard to tell if I was even going in the right direction when everywhere it was a uniform army of trunks as far as I could see. My only guiding beacon was the fact that the screams were getting louder.

At last, I spotted the large boulder merely a small speck up ahead and started picking up my pace. By the time I got there, my lungs were groaning and my legs were wobbly. There was a reason why PE was never my strong suit. I propped a hand against the boulder's surface and waited a moment to catch my breath. On the other side it sounded like a cattle stampede, and I was more than a little nervous about peeking over. But as soon as my chest would allow it, I flattened myself against the boulder's forest-facing side and inched my head over the top.

It was indeed a stampede… times, like, a thousand.

The ground looked like a moving painter's pallet- patches of every color imaginable were on the move, racing in all directions. The baby digimon were blind with panic, bouncing madly, sparing no mercy for any unlucky individual that fell beneath the masses. Some of the little huts had chunks of their mud-like walls torn out from fleeing blobs too terrified to watch where they were going. Everywhere was pure madness.

In the center of the mass was the reason why.

It was a digimon, clearly well developed in its digivolution, standing at least a dozen feet above the sea of rushing baby digimon at its feet. It loomed over the others with a not-so-friendly glint in its small eyes and a huge grin that sent shivers up my spine. I didn't need the malfunctioning digivice to tell me what _this_ was. The leathery green skin, the shock of light grey hair, the dirty loin cloth, the huge club-like femur it swung over its head as easily as if it were plastic-

Mr. Leomon's tales of the malicious Ogremon suddenly came back with a vengeance.

The ground shook every time Ogremon smashed its giant bone club into the ground. Sometimes it would take out a hut or two in its wake. Sometimes it'd take out a few digimon. Little blobs were rushing to escape the monster's path of destruction while its harsh, grunting laughter rang out across the valley. There was also a disturbing number of blobs that didn't move at all, crushed beneath the weight of the bone club or the large, green feet. Ogremon was clearly enjoying itself.

All this I watched from behind the boulder. Unlike the fleeing victims below me, I was paralyzed with terror. _This is the real deal,_ I thought, horrorstruck. _This is the Digital World… and I'm just a kid. Crap, what the hell was Dix thinking?_ Every cell in my body wanted nothing more than to be safe and secure in the comfort of my bedroom, pulling the covers over my head to protect against any danger. Not even Ogremon could get to me if I had my head underneath my pillow. I would be untouchable.

There was no such protection out here.

Suddenly, there was a wailing screech that rang out above all the raucous. My head whipped back around to Ogremon's position as my heart dropped switched places with my pancreas. I couldn't for the life of me explain why, but for some reason, I knew exactly who's scream that was.

A little round, black digimon was trapped in Ogremon's large hand, squirming and straining for its freedom. Despite the fact that it was identical to at least a few hundred other black digimon that were scrambling to run away, I somehow knew that this was Little Black Blob- my only friend in this awful world. Somehow, Ogremon's grin grew even more nasty as it slowly started squeezing its captive, earning more screams and squirms. My chicken self hesitated for just a moment, yearning to do something to help but too scared and too powerless to do anything.

My fear quadrupled when Ogremon's gaze suddenly rose- and locked onto me. I squeaked. It was even worse when Little Black Blob noticed me as well- from this distance, I could see the tiniest spark of hope burning in its desperate eyes. It wasn't just screaming, now. It was pleading. Begging me to help. I shook my head even as my heart crumbled in agony. _I'm sorry_, I wanted to tell him. _There's nothing I can do._

I knew exactly when Little Black Blob read my expression when it stopped fighting. The despair in its little eyes was nearly more than I could stand. It knew that I wasn't coming to its rescue, and it finally resigned itself to its fate. Such an ancient, wizened gaze to its baby-like face. My heart didn't just drop, it shriveled to almost nothing.

Ogremon continued laughing, watching the drama taking place between human and digimon. His voice had me trembling even as my eyes couldn't tear away from Little Black Blob. I watched with horror as Ogremon slowly lifted its catch above its head, lips peeled over its teeth in a wicked smirk, and dropped the baby digimon into its mouth.

That was the moment when my paralysis finally vanished.

I leapt off the boulder and took off into the forest as soon as my sneakers touched the ground. Whatever weariness or exhaustion that had been present before was either gone or ignored. I booked it as far away from that terrible scene as I could. But no matter how fast I ran, I couldn't get away from that last moment when my Little Black Blob gave up hope.

I made it to my backpack in a little over half the time it took me to stumble to the boulder. Everything from the neck down was on fire, and it wasn't only urgency that had me sinking to my knees. Frantic hands all but snapped the digivice off of the keychain and in my palm, it shook back and forth in front of my face. I had to take a few deep breaths before I could trust myself to speak.

"Dix? Dix, are you there?"

Silence.

"Dix?"

Some sort of staticky discharge, then the familiar voice came on.

_/This is … is Dix. Ms. Warren, is that you?/_

"Take me home. Now."

_/…I realize you're under a lot of stress, right now, but I've already made it clear-/_

"Dix, I understand how important all of this stuff is to you. But frankly, I don't care. Not at all and not anymore. I want to go home, and I want to go _now._"

* * *

Okay, for the record, this chapter took the longest to write because I knew what I had to do, but I just did _not_ want to kill off LBB. He was too _kewt!_ I nearly cried after re-reading this. I mean, I know he gets reborn as a digi-egg... but I still sniffed and fought back a few tears.

Rest in Peace, Little Black Blob. You shall be missed.

Maybe I'll bring him back later... hmm, I should think about that. Make me feel a little less guilty about feeding him to Ogremon...


	4. Breakfast

_-endures barrage of flying vegetables-_

I know, I know, I haven't updated this in _ages_. I could say I was caught up with school work, but it's summer so you'd know that was a lie. Or I could say that my job kept me preoccupied, but I've got too much free time for that to fly, either.

My last option would be to say that I was abducted by aliens that only allowed me to update _Witch Tales_ and _The Last Flower_ while conducting their experiments on me in orbit around Earth.

...wait, that actually sounds pretty good. Okay, I'll stick with that. The alien theory is my excu-... er, my _story_.

_-cue flying vegetables-_

Okay, okay, I _wasn't_ abducted by aliens. Truth is, I only had about five pages of this chapter written out before hand, and between a malfunctioning Mac and a creative-flow-blockage somewhere in my brain, I was hard-pressed to get the rest of the chapter out. But, I finally hunkered down and wrote the rest of it yesterday afternoon. Besides, I felt guilty about updating so much of my other fics and not even touching this one. I enjoy Purple Dog's commentary. :)

That being said...

_-sigh-_ Yes, I did kill off Little Black Blob. Like I said, it nearly killed me to do it. He was _adorable_. But his death played a key part in this little drama of mine. Like you said, Purple, the heroic thing to do would be to rush out and try to stop Ogremon. But let's face it- all of us _dream_ of doing the heroic thing, but when it comes down to it, few of us actually go through with it. Sara was scared for herself, and her cowardess was normal. She's only a human, as all heroes are. In this story, I'm _growing_ a hero, not implanting one. I always thought that the best stories were like that.

Not that I think _this_ is anywhere near any of the best stories out there, but you get my drift.

Alright, I've delayed long enough. Enjoy!

_Standard Disclaimer: Nearly all of the characters in this fiction are the property of whoever created the Digimon series (because I'm too lazy to go look it up myself). There are a few characters present that are my own originals, but they should be obvious enough to not require pointing out. Please don't sue me because you won't get much. I promise._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

**Breakfast**

* * *

At first, Dix was silent. He seemed to be processing the changes in my tone from the last time we spoke. There was certainly a lot more exhaustion after approximately four or five hours in the Digital World. More desperation, for sure. And something else, too. Something new.

Fear. Whole bunches of it.

Dix's voice was instantly on guard. /_What happened?/_

I thought about Little Black Blob's anguished eyes on me as it fell into's Ogremon's open jaws and shuddered. "No wonder digimon wanted to move into the real world so badly. This place is _barbaric_. No person- human or digimon- in their right mind would want to stay here."

/_Ms. Warren, what happened? Please, tell me_./

"Are you all cannibalistic?" I asked, ignoring his question. "Are you all just freaking nuts? Kidnapping and hunting each other like animals and taking over the worlds all the time when you're feeling particularly bored? Why on earth would anyone want to save this miserable place?"

_/Sara Warren, can you even hear me? Has the audio gone down? What's going on?/_

I glared at the digivice, feeling a sudden and likely undeserved disgust for the voice in the box. "Shut up, Dix. Just shut up." And I chucked the device into the grass, too peeved to look at it. I heard Dix trying to call feebly to me, his voice muffled with the speaker pressed against the canvas. But I was already on my feet and moving around the tree, leaning a hand against the trunk, feeling my stomach heave unpleasantly.

Cannibalism sure pays a heck of a toll on one's upchuck reflexes.

Despite the fact that I hadn't eaten in nearly half a day, what little substance that was in my stomach suddenly found itself fertilizing the digital grass at my feet. Stomach acid built up in my mouth and coated my tongue, leaving a burning trail all the way up my body. As long as I lived, I would never forget the sight of my little friend- my only friend- in its last moments of life.

After a while, my stomach seemed to ease back with only a mild ache to remind me of the experience. Like I could ever forget it. I paused to make sure it was truly over before turning back to my bag. Even though I hardly had the strength to do so, I lifted a strap onto my shoulder and stumbled toward another tree nearby. I didn't want to be anywhere near the evidence of my physical disgrace. Puking is a repetitive cycle I could certainly do without, thank you very much.

My goal was to get a few dozen feet away. But with both hunger and post-puking weakness steering the wheels, I barely made it one tree over before collapsing in a very ungraceful pile. For a moment, all I could do was sit there, leaning back against my bag, gasping for fresh air. Each deep breath sent a wave of tremors through my abdominal muscles, and each wave shuddered through my body to my brain, saying rather plainly, "Dude, that _hurts_."

I couldn't agree more. I was beginning to understand that just about everything about this unfamiliar world was liberally peppered with pain seedlings, just waiting for some unsuspecting human heart fertilizer.

Seriously, let's take stock- I haven't even been here for six hours, and I'm starving, weak, terrified, _traumatized_, and ready to check myself into the local psych ward.

Now, I'm a teenager, and I fully acknowledge my generation's susceptibility toward dramatics and over-exaggeration. But I don't think I'm displaying either of those when I say that now, in this moment, I wasn't completely sure I was going to make it out of here alive.

That's when the tears came.

I didn't sob, or moan, or scream in agony. I didn't even really make a sound. The tears ran in thin little streams down my face, leaving clear tracks against cheeks that have been stained by dust and dirt from running through the forest. I was just too tired to make a big production of it. I peeled the straps off my shoulders, leaned back against the tree, and cried silently. And yes, I'll admit, I was feeling particularly sorry for myself. I kept thinking, _Why me? Why couldn't someone else be saddled with this? Someone able to deal with it all?_ But I didn't feel selfish. Not at all.

No, I thought my pity-party was well justified.

--

When I opened my eyes, I was at first confused at the trees I saw before me. There should have been a wall of posters and old birthday cards and pictures ripped from magazines before me. Or at the very least, the rest of my biology class. Falling asleep in either of those places would at least have made sense. Why did I fall asleep against a random tree?

Wait… since when was there a _forest_ in Southern California, anyway?

Then, of course, it all came back, and I just wanted to cry all over again. I took a deep breath to dispel the sobs that wanted to come, but instead, my stomach did that trembling thing again. It grumbled at me angrily, upset at being ignored for so long. I normally took very good care of it- eating regularly, rarely working out so that I could maintain what I called my "attractive chub", spoiling it with plenty of oreos and peanut butter- it wasn't used to such abuse. Neither was the rest of me, for that matter.

Looking around, I was startled to see pale light blinking in between the leaves above me. The air smelled fresh and earthy, like a football field right after being mowed, and my clothes and bag were lightly dampened by what I could only assume was morning dew. Was it really morning?

Honestly, I hardly remembered falling asleep in the first place. The last thing I could recall was collapsing at the foot of this tree for a nice, long cry. Maybe I shut my eyes for a minute or two- crying always leaves my eyes stinging- but surely I didn't fall asleep through the whole night, right? I mean, it wasn't even dark before I closed my eyes. It was late afternoon, at the most. And now it's morning. What was I asleep for, twelve hours? Even for _me,_ that's a lot.

…does the digital world even have twenty-four hour days? What if it were really twenty-three? Or twenty? Or _thirty_? Or what if they don't even measure their time by hours_?_

…_wait, that's just stupid._

I shook my head, trying to clear my rattled, early-morning thoughts. I needed to focus. More now than ever before. My mind jumped back to Little Black Blob before I could stop it, and the images from yesterday's massacre had me cringing and trying to turn away as if it were a picture sitting in front of me. _Focus, Sara, focus! You have to keep your cool if you want to get out of here._

Dix said that regardless of whether I helped him or not, it'd still take a few weeks to a few months for me to get back home. However, like the stubborn teenager I was, I wasn't about to accept that. As Mom always says, there is always a door number two if you look hard enough.

What I needed to do was to find another way home- one that _didn't_ involve waiting an ungodly long time, during which I might be eaten, stepped on, destroyed, dismembered, blasted apart, _ripped_ apart, or-

God, I wish I didn't have such a healthy imagination. I needed to stop thinking so negatively. I needed to start thinking of ways to get myself out of this mess that Dix stuck me in.

And while I'm at it, I needed to eat. _Badly_.

"And I need to stop thinking, too," I muttered aloud, rubbing a finger against my temple. "Thinking too much hurts my brain." _Sounds like something Nicole would say_, I thought with only slight bemusement. But thinking of Nicole only reminded me of the ache of homesickness I had somehow managed to forget about yesterday. So, as a means of distraction, I tried to pull myself to my feet.

Easier said than done, believe you me.

After going nearly a full day without eating, my body felt like a paper doll- even the slight breeze swaying the grasses and branches back and forth was hard to stand up to. At every moment, my legs kept threatening to buckle beneath me, shaking and quaking enough to register on the Richter scale. Even after leaning most of my weight against the tree, it took a good thirty seconds to slowly rise. I felt like my Grandma Barbara. No, I felt _worse_ than my Grandma Barbara- and she's _ninety-two_!

"Okay," I wheezed, winded from the effort of standing. "New plan. First, get food. Then, scarf food. Lastly, figure out how to get the hell out of here."

Suddenly, my head whipped up. The headache that followed was my well-deserved punishment for performing such a hasty action in my weakened state- it was my body's way of scolding me for my own stupidity. But I tried desperately to ignore it, straining my ears to their maximum listening capacity. Did I just hear something over there?

Wind blowing. Leaves rustling. Twigs snapping. Long strands of grass brushing up against the base of the tree behind me. The canopy swaying back and forth. And beneath it all, still I could have sworn I heard- there!

Was that… digital static?

/_Miss Warren?_/

I suppressed a groan. _Great. My executioner._

/_Miss Warren, are you there?_/

I was sorely tempted not to answer, but in the end decided against it. "Yeah, I'm here… _unfortunately_."

/_…why do you sound so faint?_/

"Because you're one tree over from where I am. Hang on, this may take a while." I stood leaning against my tree, catching my breath and prepping myself for the dozen feet or so that I'd have to cross to get to the spot where I had thrown the digivice right before I relieved myself of my lunch yesterday. If I could just push off the trunk hard enough, maybe I could get enough momentum to-

_THUMP!_

/_Miss Warren? Are you okay? What's going on?_/ Dix's voice sounded anxious.

At first, I didn't answer. I was lying face down in the grass, hardly half of the distance between the two trees. Suffice it to say, my momentum theory fell a little short.

/_Miss Warren?_/

I muttered a few words into the grass that would've earned me a month's worth of chores had I been at home and slowly lifted my torso high enough to prop myself up on my elbows. From this distance, I could see the sunlight filtered through the canopy reflecting off one of the digivice's rounded edges.

/_Miss Warren, is everything alright?_/

I sighed and rested my cheek against one open palm. "You know, it's times like these that I wish your video feed was turned on so that my glaring at you would do some good."

Dix obviously didn't know how to respond to that. /_I… see. I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me what happened to you yesterday, would you?_/

"Oh, would I!?" I exclaimed with false enthusiasm. Now that I was coherent enough to speak, I was ready to lash out again. "Here, let's see, where do I begin? I mean, I could start with the fact that I was kidnapped and brought to the Digital World with no way of getting home, but you already know that part, don't you? Well, how about the part where I sat and watched an Ogremon pillaging a whole town of little baby digimon, smacking 'em around and snacking on them like candy? Do you know that part? Or what about the part where I vomited everything in my stomach because I was so horrified and disgusted over what I had seen? Oooh, and then there's my favorite part about how I _haven't eaten anything for nearly a day, and I am both physically and mentally weak with hunger!_"

I could tell by the heavy silence that followed that Dix was beginning to regret his portal ever picking me as a candidate to save the world every bit as much as I regretted going into that gift shop. Any plans he may have had to sugarcoat the Digital World as a fun place full of laughter and joy and safety were officially blown to bits. And I haven't even been here a whole day, yet!

Finally, I heard what might have been a sigh, and Dix began to speak softly. /_Miss Warren, I… I can't begin to apologize enough for what I've put you through_-/

"For what you're _still_ putting me through!" I corrected sharply.

Another pause. /_Yes, you're right. And I know I don't deserve any of your forgiveness, either. I wish I could say the Digital World is a wonderful place but, like your world, it is filled with many dangers. Dangers that I wish I didn't have to expose you to._/

"Dangers that I wouldn't have _had_ to have been exposed to if it weren't for you!" I snapped.

/_I know. Again, if there had been any other way-_/

"Stuff it, Dix. I don't want to hear it."

/_…very well._/

There was a rather tense period of silence while I was glaring at the small corner of silver digivice that was poking out from among the grasses. But my stomach twisted again, reminding me of its own suffering, and I sighed irritably. "Did you have something to say, or are you planning on being a daily annoyance?"

/_No, I… well, after last night, I just wanted to be sure you were alright._/

I bit my tongue before the nasty comment I _wanted_ to say could surface. Instead, I said, "Yeah, well, if by 'alright' you mean 'alive', I suppose I am, if only barely. I need food and water, and unless your stupid gizmo can do something about it, I doubt you can help."

There was another pause, but when Dix spoke again, his tone was surprisingly thoughtful. /_Perhaps I might yet. Wait just one moment, please._/

And the staticky noise returned. I wanted to snort. _Wait, huh? Well, what else am I supposed to do? Run a marathon?_ While Dix was otherwise occupied, I tried to dig my elbows into the ground to crawl toward the digivice. This idea was met with slight success, and through the strength of my arms alone, I managed to slither forward enough to reach for the analyzer. As my fingers wound around the small device, I began to smell traces of last night's endeavors, and I quickly scooted back while trying to hold my breath. After much sliding, grunting and crawling, I made it back to my tree and slumped down next to my backpack, completely winded once again.

And just in time to hear Dix return.

/_Hello, Miss Warren? I think I may have found a way for you to get some food._/

_This_ perked my interest enough to talk to the digivice without any angry sarcasm. "Really? How?"

Dix sounded pleased over the change in my tone, but wisely said nothing about it. /_There is a transmitter within your digivice allowing me to track your whereabouts. And it looks like you should be in the center of a grove of day fruit._/

"Day fruit?" I repeated.

/_Yes. They're small, round and tart fruit that are only borne in the morning. By noon, they ripen and fall to the ground, where they are either harvested or absorbed into the ground to fertilize for the next day's crops. There should be a few trees somewhere near your position._/

Excited by the prospect of a meal, I tried looking at the trees around me, scanning their branches for any sort of round bulges.

"Dix, I don't see anything. Are you sure your transmitter thing is working?"

/_Of course it is!_/ he said with only slight irritation. /_This early in the morning, they should be small, pale green spheres fixed to the end of the branches./_

So I tried to look again, this time keeping an eye out for the camouflaged fruit. I almost cried with delight when I spotted a small clump in a tree to my left.

"I see some!"

/_Good. How big are they?_/

"They're light green, like you said, and just a little bigger than a grape."

/_Hmm. Sounds like they're still rather immature. They should be ripe for picking in another two or three hours, unless you want to wait until they drop themselves._/

I groaned impatiently. "I can't just sit here and stare at something I'll get to eat in a few hours when I'm hungry _right now._ Can't I eat them before they're ripe?"

Dix paused before answering. /_They won't taste very good._/

"Are you kidding? At this point, I'm likely to consider a sweaty gym sock pretty tasty. I just need something in my stomach before I faint." _Heaven forbid I run into another Ogremon while I'm too weak to run away,_ I added silently.

I heard another sigh, but I recognized the sign of surrender in it. /_Very well, if you must. But don't eat too many, otherwise you'll get sick. For your first data food, you'll want to take it easy until your body is used to processing digital nutrients._/

"Sure, sure, whatever," I replied, already working my way to my feet. With food to motivate me, finding the strength to move suddenly became much easier. With unsteady steps, I made my way to the base of the tree where the day fruit were gathered. "How do I get to them?"

/_Well, since it's still early in the morning and you don't want to wait, the only way to retrieve them is by climbing up to their location._/

_Can nothing in this world be easy?_ I thought for the second time since my arrival. While I fixed the digivice back onto the key chains on my hip, I studied the tree that was holding onto my breakfast. It stood about as high as my apartment building and at least twice as big around as Miss TogeMom. Broad, flat leaves the size of my palm were clumped together in bunches all throughout the tree. The grape-looking berries- the day fruit, Dix called it- were hanging off of the second branch above the ground, at least an additional ten feet over my head.

I could try to toss something at the immature fruit to knock it off its perch. But I didn't have enough faith in my throwing accuracy to bother giving it a chance. And without any sort of long stick or pole to attempt to lodge them that way, it really did look like I had no other choice but to bring myself to the fruit.

_Naturally_, I thought.

Getting to the first branch wouldn't be the hard part. The roots of this massive tree ruptured from the earth, providing me with a handy little stepping stool up to the branch. Despite my wobbly legs, I managed to climb atop them so that the first branch stood at about eye level with me. But I had to reach a hand out against the trunk to even remain standing. My stomach was rallying the rest of my body in a full-scale mutiny. Even with the promise of bitter tasting food, it simply wasn't going to give me a break. I was weak, tired, and starving, and in no condition to go tree-climbing.

"Buck up, Warren," I told myself, putting my game face on. "Robinson Crusoe could have done it. So could the Swiss Family Robinson. And MacGyver. You're in the Digital World, now, so you might as well imagine yourself as the heroine of a TV show."

/_…that's certainly one way to think of it._/

"No one asked you." I made a face at the digivice and reached my hands out to the branch. It felt thick enough to hold my weight, but not too much that I couldn't get a good grip on it. I bounced a few times on my toes, counting softly "one, two, three", then bent my knees and sprang up-

-only to fall back down. See, the whole thing about the most common ascending-up-trees trick is that by trying to swing up onto the branch, it required resting my body weight on said branch while centered on my stomach. I was able to hold that position for about three seconds before the empty pain became too much and I let my weight fall back down onto the roots.

_Okay. Onto Plan B._

But Plan B wouldn't work out, either. I had thought I could swing my leg up to catch the branch, and through the cunning use of arms, legs and precise wriggling, somehow secure my way onto the first ledge. But with the branch being nearly as high as I am tall, there's no way I could lift my leg that high. Not if I expected that leg to still be connected to my body.

_Alright. No problem. Onto Plan C._

I rested my elbows on the branch while I tried to figure out what Plan C was. All the while, the day fruit were just hanging idly by in the upper corner of my vision, ever tantalizing and torturous. In fact, as I stared at them absently, I couldn't help but notice that they looked a tad darker than when I had last looked at them. Dix wasn't kidding- they _do_ mature fast, don't they?

/_Have you made any progress, yet?_/ Dix asked politely.

I debated on whether I wanted to confess to my lack of physical coordination at the moment, but decided instead to divert the subject. "Are you _ever_ planning on fixing the video feed on this thing? It'd be much handier not having to explain things to you all the time."

/_There's only so much I can do from my control center, Miss Warren. Without the device itself before me, I'm afraid I'm to remain blinded._/ His response sounded just a twinge sharper than usual, which pleased me in a perverse way.

We both fell into silence then- me, still trying to figure out my next move and Dix doing whatever annoying thing Dix usually does. As I thought, my eyes wandered: from the fruit, to a tree in the distance, to a knob of wood by my left hand, to the tree itself, to the root I was standing on, to-

Wait a minute.

I turned my attention back to the tree, eying its distance. _That might work_. I stepped over to another exposed root that dropped me a little lower beneath the branch, but brought me closer to the trunk. I raised a foot hesitantly to rest against its bark, testing my weight and the little strength I had in my arms. I _thought_ I could make it. Tightening my grip on the branch, I carefully lifted my other foot, shifting my weight so that they held firm to the trunk, and proceeded to walk up the side of the tree.

My arms were shaking like crazy, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to stop or let go. Step by anxious step, my body went from angling down toward the ground to becoming parallel with the branch, and even further until my head was pointing down.

By now, my feet were as far from me as I could walk them, just a mere foot-and-a-half above the branch. My arm muscles were liquefying in my skin, and I either had to be on the ground or on the branch quickly before they no longer gave me an option. As quickly as I could manage it, I shoved my weight into my left foot while my right dropped from the tree to wrap around the far side of the branch. Once I hooked my foot around it, I quickly did the same with my left.

For a moment, I felt like I was falling. But I had only dropped a few inches before my wrapped legs saved me. Twined as they were, it was less my muscles that held me up and more the sturdiness of my leg bones. I rested half-upside down for a moment before I used my arms to try to pull me up a bit at a time. I had to rest a lot, and it felt like hours when I finally got up instead of the few minutes it probably took. But at last, I had my back cradled by the thick branch that dipped only a little due to its extra passenger. Well, in a world without doughnuts and pizza, I guess I won't have to worry about cutting back my diet, will I?

"Dix, I made it up to the first branch," I said, panting slightly.

/_Good. How far up is the fruit?_/

"The bunch I saw is on the branch above me."

/_Wonderful. You shouldn't have that much of a problem acquiring them, now._/

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme a minute, first."

I rested on that branch for nearly ten minutes, not having the energy to scramble about just yet. In fact, if the branch hadn't swayed so that my head was lower than my feet, I would have been quite comfortable.

But my stomach was having none of that. As long as it was uncomfortable, I was going to be uncomfortable. It grumbled at me to get my butt moving. With a groan, I slowly rolled up and swung my legs around so that I was sitting up, one hand balanced against the trunk. Rising to my feet was no easier up in the air than it was down on the ground. I took extra care to not stumble, however, since I had little interest in falling to the un-cushioned ground below. Being so close to my breakfast, though, coaxed just a little bit more energy out of my weary limbs, and I soon stood against the tree, staring at the fruit only about five feet from where I stood.

The second branch was just as high on me as the first had been, running straight across my forehead when I stood straight. But this time I didn't need to scale it. Instead, I just clenched both hands around its base and scooted step by step across the thicker branch beneath my feet. Thank God for little breezes strong enough to cool the sweat off my face but not strong enough to blow anything else- like the branches above and below me, or you know, _me_. Compared to the ordeal of climbing, this was almost easy.

Within a half dozen scooted steps, I could reach out and grab the fruit. Up close, they were _definitely_ a darker shade of green- a tad more emerald-y than the yellow-green it was before- and they were larger, too. Instead of being grape-sized, they were more oblong, at least the width of my pinky and almost half as long. I thought about plucking one off, but decided I didn't have the strength to eat while standing. So I pinched the thin stem connecting the branch to the bunch- probably about 8 or 10 in all- and backtracked my way along the branch until I was seated with my back against the trunk.

"And now, I feast!" I said, tugging off one small day fruit with relish and popping it in my mouth.

What was it Dix had said? They wouldn't taste very good?

Ah, but I forgot his tendency towards underestimation.

They were _awful_! Before I knew what I was doing, I spat the fruit out and let it fall among the tangled roots. Imagine biting into a ball of slimey seaweed wrapped around a small, concentrated lemon. The skin of the fruit was soft to the touch, but in my mouth it tasted like mucus. And biting into it invited a sharp bitterness that normal human taste buds aren't designed to handle.

"Ugh! Are these rotten?" I checked for any colored spots or hairy insects.

/_I told you they wouldn't be pleasant,_/ Dix said loftily.

"There's a bit of a difference between 'unpleasant' and 'unpalatable'," I snapped. "I don't know if I can even keep them in my mouth long enough to swallow!"

/_They'll turn much sweeter in a few hours if you'd like to wait,_/ Dix pointed out.

I grumbled incoherently under my breath. At this rate, waiting a few hours didn't sound nearly so bad. But I glared at the fruit in my lap, pulled another one off the stem, and tossed it into my mouth without biting. My eyes screwed shut at the foreign texture, but I forced myself to swallow. I could almost hear the rattling sound it made as it ricocheted off of the empty walls in my stomach. Regardless of taste, I _needed_ food.

My stomach hurt by the time I had finished my last one. After being hungry for so long, the sensation of being semi-filled seemed almost forgotten, and strangely painful. I didn't know whether that was because of the disgusting fruit I had choked down, or the fact that it was my first food in nearly 24 hours. Nonetheless, I hunkered down on my branch, folded my hands over my stomach, and tried to close my eyes.

I had a ways to wait before lunch came around.

And ironically enough, it was lunch that woke me up. Literally.

I had been napping for maybe a hour- after at least two hours of staring up through the branches contemplating my purpose in life- when something landed with a solid _thunk_ on my head, effectively waking me. I was so startled and disoriented that I nearly squirmed right off the branch! But the thing that hit me in the head bounced into my lap, and after getting a good look at it, I wasn't nearly so angry with it.

It was a day fruit. It _had _to have been, although it bore very little resemblance to the small abominations I had eaten earlier. This thing was the size of melon and a deep shade of purple with little brown freckles. Instead of being soft, it's rind was smooth and slick. And as I found out the hard way, it was _heavy_.

I was curious to taste this new item, but memory of its older form warded off my haste. My stomach still growled at me- though with slight less insistence than before- so I shoved my fear aside and lifted the fruit to take a small bite. Even though Dix had warned me that the taste would not be the same, I was still prepared for an overwhelming bitterness. So I was shocked when I tasted a lightly sweetened flavor that reminded me of vanilla. It was cold and juicy and quite possibly the most delicious thing I had ever eaten in my life- Togemom's peanut-butter cookies included. I wasted little time in devouring the entire thing.

And it wasn't just good. It was _refreshing_. It satisfied my thirst at the same time as it did my hunger, and it restored my energy like a good night of sleep. I wondered if there wasn't more to it's given name of "day fruit" than just it's quick maturation.

"Dix, are you still there?" I called out, swinging my legs around and dropping to the ground. The ease of my movements compared to this morning almost made me want to laugh. There was no response as I made my way across the root field to the grass. It felt marvelous to have my strength back. I would never take for granted a good meal- heck, even a _bad_ meal- ever again!

"Di-ix." It was only a matter of time before he'd eventually answer. I suspected that he didn't leave his "control center" very often, if at all, so that he could be around to counsel his human savior when she needed him. In the meantime, I spotted some other ripened purple day fruit littered across the ground. Looking up, I saw even more still in the trees, dragging down their branches with their sudden growth.

_They'd_ _make a good meal while I'm on the road,_ I thought. I figured I could fit at least 3 or 4 in my backpack, more if I decided to ditch my school things. So I strode forward and began to scoop up as many as would fit in my arms. After six, I couldn't lift any more. Those suckers had to be at least 8 or 9 pounds _each_. A girl could get a workout using these like weights to stick on each end of a barbell. I staggered over to the tree where I had left my backpack, calling out to Dix once more as I rounded the trunk-

-and promptly stopped short, dropping my catch at my feet.

/_I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was out getting the mail. Did you need me for something?_/ came Dix's voice from the digivice.

Silence.

/_Miss Warren? Are you there?_/

"My backpack," I breathed.

/_…excuse me?_/

"My _backpack_!" I said again with real alarm in my voice. "It's gone! Someone's stolen my backpack!"

* * *

_((Just for the record: No, this is _not_ intended to be a filler chapter. This seemingly random fifteen or so pages of text were written with the intention of you, the Reader (i.e. Purple Dog XD) getting to understand Sarah's character. Let me remind you that while she is to be the heroine of the story, she is _not_ a hero right off the bat. It's one of the things I disliked about the original digimon- despite the obvious mistakes the characters made, I was never really under the impression that they were a bunch of junior high kids stranded in the middle of a strange world with strange talking monsters. Junior high kids _aren't_ going to become instant heroes. And Sarah is going to show you why._

_Sorry for the semi-rant. Just wanted to clarify. :) _

_Hope you're enjoying thus far.))_


	5. The House of Curiosities

If only because I am _extrodinarily_ proud of myself for getting this chapter out all at once, I'm positing this rather early. I would normally wait a bit of time until after I had built up a little of the next chapter, but as I have just spent the last seven or eight hours busting out the next _23 pages_ you're about to read, yes, I think a little pride is not out of the question.

Yes. I rock. Booyeah.

Now, Purpledog's corner:

You're right. While the first two seasons were a delight to watch, with so many characters it was difficult to give them ample amounts of character. You had a good sense of each of their personalities, but it was more because of the personality stereotypes used than the characters themselves developing into the personalities. And you didn't get much of a chance to go into their background that much, either. Though many don't like the third season that much, it's one of their few strengths they had above the first two seasons- you got a much bettor hisotry with the three main characters than you did with the eight characters of the first season.

And I am sorry for the slowness of the last chapter. Again, it was not without purpose! And besides, I think that there is more than enough going on in this monstrocity of a chapter to make up for it.

Enjoy!

(And forewarning- school is starting up again the week after next ((and the 26th is my brithday! woot!)), so updates are likely going to be slow again. But I have a good sense of where I'm going with this story, at least for the next couple of chapters, so hopefully the only thing that'll hold me back will be a lack of time and not inspiration. :D)

_Standard Disclaimer: Nearly all of the characters in this fiction are the property of whoever created the Digimon series (because I'm too lazy to go look it up myself). There are a few characters present that are my own originals, but they should be obvious enough to not require pointing out. Please don't sue me because you won't get much. I promise._

* * *

**Chapter 5**

**The House of Curiosities**

* * *

My butt sank to the ground with just as hard a thump as the day fruit

My butt sank to the ground with just as hard a _thump_ as the day fruit. My legs had collapsed beneath me, but unlike before, their weakness could not be attributed to any lingering hunger or weariness.

No, it was plain _shock_.

My backpack was gone. It was _gone_! Stolen! Right from underneath me! Literally!

Thinking back on this, I realize now that I probably shouldn't have made such a big deal about the loss. I mean, there I was stuck in the middle of the Digital World, and I was freaking out because my text books were gone. In any other circumstance, I would have been rejoicing. And the loss of a canvas back pack with a hole in the front pocket wasn't absolutely detrimental to my survival out here, anyway. Technically, without that weight on my shoulders, traveling would be _easier_. While the traveling bag could have come in handy, the truth was that the thief- whoever it was- had actually done me a favor. A blessing in disguise is what these situations are commonly called. And had I been thinking straight, I might have come to this conclusion, too.

But, of course, I wasn't.

It was my _backpack_! And it was _gone!_

Stupid as it sounds, it was those ridiculous text books and doodling markers and chewed-on pencils that were helping to keep me sane. As many times as I had thought about dumping the load somewhere in that forest and waltzing away, I didn't. I guess without really thinking of it, having that backpack on my back reminded me of school- afterall, as soon as I put it on, I was in constant mental torture until I took it off at the end of the day. The irritation and dread attributed with my education was almost a stimulated response to having that bag present.

But while being in the Digital World, it was my constant reminder of things that I had to do: "_Can't leave my backpack behind, or I'll get a bunch of library fees from the missing text books_" ; "_What will my teachers say if I show up after weeks or months of being missing, and I don't even have the homework done from my last day in my world_?" ; "_I have to get home and patch up that hole in the backpack before Mom notices and starts yelling at me for being irresponsible again_". Because with each of these seemingly annoying tasks awaiting me, my mind kept reassuring me that I'd make it home to get them done. Maybe not tomorrow, or the day after, or even the month after… but eventually.

Without that backpack, all those fears of never making it out of this god-awful place resurfaced with a vengeance.

/_Miss Warren? Miss Warren, are you alright?_/

I jumped to my automatic default reaction- sarcasm. "Oh, of _course_! Of course I'm alright, Dix! I'm about as alright as a mouse in a snake pit!"

I think after 24 hours of dealing with me, Dix was beginning to get used to my outbursts. /_Miss Warren, what happened?/_ he asked calmly.

"Didn't you hear me? Or is your audio feed as messed up as everything else around here? My. Backpack. Is. _Gone!_"

/_Gone?_/

"Yes! Gone! Vanished! Disappeared! No longer here! _Gone!_" I was starting to get hysterical, and Dix's pointlessly repetitive questions were _not_ helping.

/_Are you sure you didn't just misplace it? Are you looking in the right place?_/

I was fighting back the panicked tears as I screamed at him. "Of _course I'm in the right place!_ This is the closest tree to the one that I found the day fruit in! I had my bag in my sight the whole ti-" My voice choked off even as my thoughts continued the statement. _The whole time until I fell asleep!_

/_Miss Warren?_/

_That had to have been when it was stolen,_ I thought, brows scrunching. _I was asleep for at least an hour. Anyone could have come by during that time, seen the bag, and hoisted it without a second thought. But why on earth would anyone bother to steal a backpack? There's absolutely _nothing_ of value in it- it's more or less a piece of junk to just about anyone but me._

Without warning, an image of my backpack burning as bonfire fuel popped into my head, and I almost wanted to cry. I _had_ to get my bag back before anything could happen to it.

I heard Dix sigh with impatience. /_Miss Warren! Are you even still there?_/

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here," I said. While still annoyed, I at least didn't sound like I was pulling my hair out by its roots anymore.

Dix sounded relieved. /_Are you alri- I mean, are you feeling better?_/

There was a tiny twinge of something in my chest when I noticed what Dix was about to say. No doubt he thought of the _last_ time he asked that question, and the unexpected reaction to it. That twinge I felt- it couldn't possibly be guilt, could it? "A little, I guess. Not as crazy as before, but still pretty freaked out. My backpack was stolen while I had fallen asleep waiting for the day fruit to ripen, and it's just- more than a little freaky, to say the least."

/_Of course. I understand._/

I nodded without thinking- it's not as if he could see it anyway- and tried to come up with a plan. "I have no idea where it is, nor who took it, or what they did with it, but somehow I've got to get it back."

There was silence.

"I mean, I know it's just a stupid backpack and all," I continued, feeling a little silly over my attachment to my stuff. "And it shouldn't even be that big of a deal to go psycho over it, but I _have_ to get it back."

/…_ I understand._/

I blinked. Did he really? This was staring to sound a little too good to be true. "I don't care if you don't want me to or not," I warned him. "Or if you think it's stupid to go tramping across the Digital World to look for it, or if you think it's a waste of time cutting into your plans for me to do your 'researching thing' for you, but I'm going to do it anyway."

/_Miss Warren, I shall not stop you from your search for your belongings, if that's what you're getting at,_/ Dix said mildly.

I could have sworn I heard amusement in his voice. "You're not?" I said, disbelief clear in my tone.

Now I _knew _I heard a hushed chuckle. /_Miss Warren, if there's one thing I've learned in the short time since our meeting it's that I probably couldn't stop you from doing what you wanted even if I tried. You are a _very_ stubborn human,_/ he said, but with what I could have sworn was a hint of affection, so that I couldn't tell whether that was a compliment or an insult. I settled for saying nothing. /_Besides, as you said, this venture may take you well across the Digital World. And anything that gets you started on your journey can be nothing but a benefit to my research in the end. One direction as opposed to the other can't matter much either way./_

I nodded. He had a point. "So does this mean you'll actually help me?"

/_In whatever way I can._/

For a moment, I was stunned into silence. I had expected his protests and complaints, not this completely uncharacteristic turn of generosity. Okay, then, score one point for Dix.

"Well, you can start by giving me some idea of which direction to go. Because I haven't got a clue!"

/_Try looking around you. Perhaps the thief left something behind that might act as a clue._/

"Kay." I shoved myself to my feet, dusted off my backside, and began hunting through the grass. I tried to be methodical about it- once again, thank you Nancy Drew!- and circled around the tree. When I came full circle, I extended my range, always keeping the tree where I had slept last night in the center of my expanding path. Round and round I went, looking for anything out of the ordinary. It didn't occur to me that, being unfamiliar with the Digital World, I wouldn't recognize the difference between 'ordinary' and 'unordinary' anyway.

I was about a few dozen feet away from the tree when I found my first clue.

"Dix! I found something!" I exclaimed, kneeling to pick it up.

/_What is it?_/

"It's one of my pens," I said, eying the familiar teeth marks on the middle over the manufacturer's label. The pen cap was missing. Yup, definitely mine. "I bet it fell out of the hole in my backpack I made earlier."

/_You're positive it's yours?_/

I snorted. "Dix, what are the chances that some digimon was wandering around this place with a human writing utensil?"

/…_point taken._/

I looked up at the tree- then back in the opposite direction. Straight into the forest.

"Dix, you've got that navigation thingy, right? From the tree to where I am right now, what's out in that direction?"

/_One moment, I'm looking now… ah hah! You're in luck._/

"What is it?"

/_The forest ends in just under a half-mile, human standard, from where you're standing in that direction. And there's a digimon settlement there, as well. I'd say there's a good chance your thief was heading for that settlement with your backpack._/

"A settlement?" I felt a lump grow in my throat. "That wouldn't happen to be a settlement of little baby digimon, would it?"

I heard rapid typing, more digital static, then Dix came back. /_No, this is an integrated colony. There is a baby digimon village, but it's far to the north from where you are. Why?/_

"No reason," I said quickly. "Straight ahead about a half-mile, you said?"

/_…yes._/ There was a little hesitation in Dix's voice, but to my relief he didn't push the issue. /_I estimate you'll arrive in time to make the afternoon market. That'd be the best place to start looking._ _I'll try to dig up more information while you walk._/

"Kay, thanks." I made to take a step, but paused for just a moment, glancing back at the day fruit that I had left on the ground. I had planned on stuffing them in my backpack to take with me, but with no other way to transport them, I was debating on whether it'd be worth the hassle of just simply carrying them myself. "Hey Dix, do you think it'd be worth it to bring one or two of these day fruit with me? I don't want to worry about going another whole day without food, but they're getting awfully heavy."

/_Don't even bother. They won't last for more than another five or six hours anyway before rotting. Besides, the sooner you get moving, the less likely you'll run into any other digimon coming to harvest the day fruit. Most of them stay away until late in the afternoon when all the fruit have finished falling to come claim them to avoid the risk of being smashed by them._/

"Why? It's not like getting hit on the head hurts _that_ much." I rubbed my head in memory of my wake up call.

/_To _you_, perhaps not. But most digimon aren't your size. To creatures that don't often stand more than a sapling in height, a sizeable object like a day fruit can cause a lot of unnecessary pain._/

"I suppose that makes sense."

/_Keep in mind, though, that I say 'most' digimon,_/ Dix warned. /_There are plenty of digimon that don't come by looking for fallen fruit, but for fallen digimon_._/_

I didn't need any more warning than that. With a small yelp, I spun around and took off for the direction Dix advised, eyes always open for possible predators sneaking around in the early afternoon shadows. Now I knew how Bambi felt, and why his mom was always so paranoid.

Going from the top of the food chain to the bottom in a matter of hours is a humbling experience.

And did I mention it sucks?

* * *

Sure enough, as Dix had predicted, fifteen minutes later had me stepping foot into a huge plain that marked the end of the forest. Trees stretched out on either side of me in a near perfectly straight line as far as I could see, like a dark green wall separating one land from the other. I felt a little odd stepping out into the open, a little nervous without the trees around me. After only a day of nothing but trees, and I had already grown attached to it.

Along the way, Dix kept me updated about the little digimon "town" I was heading toward. Named for it's geographical location, the city of Edge harbored less than a thousand different digimon of all digivolution "ages", most of which had already been confirmed as affected with the virus. But because it was the closest civilization anywhere around, it was a center of trade, both of goods and of information. There were roads leading in all directions from Edge (except into the forest) which brought thousands of traveling digimon into and out of the town daily. Dix was confident that the thief was somewhere within this bustling place.

And I was relatively confident he (or she) was here, too. Along my journey through the forest, I found the missing cap to my chewed on pen, along with two highlighters, a pink eraser, and a gum wrapper with weeks old chewed gum still tucked in its aluminum. It's amazing the things one might find in a student's bag that you don't expect to find.

I was hovering on the forest border, keeping an eye on the town while waiting for Dix to get back with more information. He said he had a hunch he wanted to follow, and that I should hang around until he could learn more. With nothing else to do, I sat with my back to a tree and started drawing on my arms with the highlighters.

By the time Dix came back, I had swirling bands around my wrist that I was semi-proud of. I could recall at least two different math periods where I had made better ones.

Dix's voice came nearly out of nowhere. /_I was right! It _is_ here!_/

I jumped, leaving a long orange streak down the inside of my arm. "Geez, Dix, you scared me!" I licked my thumb and tried to rub out the line. "What's here?"

/_Vademon's shop. He runs a mobile pawn shop that covers the entire Digital World. Turns out he's set up a location on the far side of town, near the Eastern road._/

"What's so special about this particular shop?"

/_Vademon is what most would consider a shady dealer- all about no-questions-asked business. He takes in anything brought to him, then will turn around and sell it at triple the price. He's a digimon that takes particular interest in the odd and unusual._/

I glanced at the digivice at my hip. "And you think our thief would have paid Vademon a visit to discuss a human backpack and assorted school junk?"

/_I can't think of anyone else that would show any interest in human items such as yours._/

I sighed. "Well, I guess we're off to pay Vademon a visit, too."

/_I'd recommend going around the town and entering from the Eastern road. Humans aren't too uncommon around a trading spot like Edge, but it couldn't hurt to be careful._/

_This_ caught my attention. "There are other humans around here?"

/_Of course. Researches from PALO and other similar organizations often frequent bustling places like Edge for observational as well as recreational purposes. And of course, there are government officials like your President and the leaders of other nations that come to the Digital World for peace and immigration negotiations. Not all the time are such conferences taken place in your world._/

"Hm, I guess I never thought of that."

Dix fell silent, and I crossed my fingers praying that he didn't hear the suspiciously innocent tone that had suddenly crept into my voice. Because the instant he said the word "researchers", I had suddenly thought of a way to get out of here.

The researchers! Why hadn't I thought of them before? Surely they could get me home! All I had to do is walk up to them, say I was kidnapped by some stranger (no need to directly involve Dix since he's being so unusually nice and all), and wait for them to whisk me home! My plan was brilliant, but only as long as Dix didn't see the conclusions I had made in only a matter of seconds. If Dix found out I was trying to sneak out, he'd find some way to make me stay.

All I had to do was get my backpack, then find a researcher to take me home. It was as simple as that.

I tried to speak lightly in an effort to distract my partner (if even you could call him that) from pondering too much on my train of thought. "Ah well, I suppose that's something I need to keep in mind from now on. As a human in the Digital World, I've suddenly turned into the minority and need to be a little more careful about where I'm wandering around."

/_Indeed,_/ Dix agreed. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn't hear any suspicion in his tone. /_Most of the time, your human stature won't do much more than earn a few more stares from curious crowds. But there are those places where humans are most certainly _not_ going to be welcomed, and you'd be better off avoiding those areas altogether._/

"What if the virus-free digimon you're looking for are in those places, though?" I asked.

Dix answered more quickly and vehemently than I had expected. /_Miss Warren, I will not endanger you any more than I already have for the sake of my research. If such a case comes about, then I'll have to take other measures to get what I need. I will _not_ condone seeking the answers I need at the expense of your ultimate well-being._/

His sincere concern startled me, and I felt the prickling of that guilt thing again. It was so much easier to deal with an annoying, dictating Dix than it was to face this thoughtful one that kept worrying about me. It was unsettling. So, without saying a word, I stepped forth across the plain.

As Dix had suggested, I arched wide around Edge's Southernmost side to avoid detection. The roads extending to the South and Southeast were sprinkled with light traffic, and hardly anyone gave me a second glance as I skirted around them. I found myself secretly thanking the principal of my school for agreeing to integrate our campus with digimon students. Otherwise, the sheer number and variety of the digimon I walked by would have scared the hell out of me.

Now, I stood with the sun just a little to my left (Dix told me that the sun rose in the North and set in the South in the Digital World- weird) and Edge in front of me. The traffic from here was almost completely empty- to the East, it was miles until the next town, and this late in the afternoon most were content with staying in Edge for the rest of the day. Not that I blamed them. There was _no where_ in the Digital World I'd ever want to travel around at night.

/_Are you ready?_/ Dix asked after I had fallen silent for a while.

I sighed. "Not really," I said. "But I might as well go before I get too chicken to move." I took one large step, as if to shove through my paranoia, then another and another until I was walking slowly toward the town. My heart was hammering in my chest and that lump in my throat had come back. In my head, I had to repeat a chant ordering myself not to throw up over and over again until it started to keep in beat with my footfalls. _Don't –_step_- throw –_step_- up –_step_- Don't –_step_- throw –_step_- up._ I had repeated the chant nearly one hundred times by the time I stepped inside the Eastern gate.

Unlike the mud huts of the baby digimon village, Edge was a real civilization with stucco-like buildings rising at least three stories high, if not more. The material was a dark rust color with green and red tiling around the windows and doors. It wasn't the most aesthetic arrangement I'd ever seen, but I was surprised to find I liked it. Flowers hung out of window sills and small pots suspended from poles sticking out of the walls, and strings of freshly laundered sheets hung between the buildings like Christmas decorations.

Also hanging out of the windows and doors were digimon themselves, calling out to each other with raised voices as opposed to standing next each other and conversing quietly. Voices rang from all corners- flying digimon sailed over the town and in between the strings of laundry, some with articles in their beaks and claws and tails and assorted belts, clips and pouches, crying out announcements and greetings to the towns people below; huge, armor-plated Monochromon stomped by with carts of food and other wares fixed to their backs; little baby digimon and smaller, more agile creatures darted back and forth between the feet of those making their way through the streets; from all corners, digimon stood behind tables and stands, beckoning all to come view their fine goods. It was loud and bustling and active and so full of life- it was like walking into the set of a medieval movie.

Okay, okay- score one point to the Digital World for coolness.

I slunk back against the wall of one building, in between a table of beautiful dark grey pottery and a small cart with the most mouth watering aromas wafting from its baskets. I grabbed the digivice, tugged it off the keychain, and held it to my mouth. "Dix, can you hear me?"

/_I can hear you just fine. But can you hear me?_/

"I can if I hold the digivice up to my ear," I told him. "I don't know where I'm supposed to go. You said Vademon has a shop over on this side of town, but there are, like, two dozen little shops just by the East gate alone. How do I know which one is his?"

/_None of the shops by the gate should belong to Vademon. He doesn't like open air shops. I have directions for you right here- go down the street on your right closest to the city wall._/

"Got it." I kept the digivice in my hand as I maneuvered around the crowds, my face turning pink when I noticed a few pairs (or more than pairs) of eyes following me curiously as I tried to make my way. While Dix had convinced me that humans were nothing unusual to be found in a place like Edge, I highly doubted any of the digimon here were used to seeing a human teenage girl wandering around their streets. I tried to keep my attention forward and slip through the traffic as quickly as I could.

The streets Dix navigated me through were getting narrower and narrower the further I went- more alleyways and side streets than actual paths- and the crowds were thinning out, too. Those digimon I _did_ see weren't as lively as those I had watched at the gate- they were either thin and gangly or had rolls of fat hanging out over their joints with dark, shifty eyes that had shivers crawling up and down my spine. I now saw why Vademon didn't like the open air markets- for a guy that was labeled as a "shady dealer", the dark underbelly of Edge was probably much more to his taste.

/_Up ahead, there should be a right turn that leads to a dead end. That's where you'll find Vademon's shop._/

"Oh, joy," I muttered, following Dix's instructions. I saw the turn and rounded the corner-

-and saw nothing but a dead end. The back ends of two buildings stood on either side of me with the city wall looming in front. I had about ten feet or so of space from one wall to the other, and the empty patch before me might as well have been a garden patch. There were no doors, no windows, no gutters or thin side streets. No sign that any sort of business was conducted here at all.

"Dix, are you sure you're looking at the right place? I turned where you told me to, but there's nothing here."

/_Really? Are you sure?_/

"Would you like to turn the video feed on? There's nothing."

/_You don't see a little silver box on the wall anywhere?/_

_Silver box?_ I scanned the space again, looking for anything insignificant to have not caught my eye before, but I still couldn't- wait! There! That might look like a little box.

But it certainly wasn't silver. At least not anymore. Dirt and mold caked over what used to be a shiny little metal box hanging on the far wall, snugly fit into the corner where the shadows neatly camouflaged it. I stepped closer, trying to peer through the shade. Yup, it was a box, alright. Sort of like an electrical switch. I tried to reach forward to brush aside some of the dirt, and was startled when I felt something give way beneath my thumb.

It wasn't a box- it was a button!

I heard a muffled ringing from somewhere- it had to be from behind one of the walls- and waited for something to happen.

"Dix, I found the doorbell you told me to look for."

/_Good. Vademon will be on his way, shortly. And before you go in, I must warn you to be careful. He's remarkably clever about getting things from you that you don't want to give away, so be very careful with your words._/

I felt the panic begin to creep back into my chest. "Great, you wait until _now_ to tell me!"

/_Don't worry, you'll be fine. I'll be listening in on the whole thing, but whatever you do, _don't_ let him see the digivice. He'll want it, and will stop at nothing to get it!_/

"But that means I can't even talk to you while I'm in there!" I protested. Whoever would have thought I'd be opposed to _not_ talking to Dix? But the thought of entering the lion's cage alone nearly had me spinning around and getting my butt out of there.

/_I'll be listening. And if anything happens, anything at all, I'll send my agents in to get you out at once._/

"Agents?"

Before Dix could answer, we both heard the faded voice call out, "Ah, how delightful! Customers, customers, splendid customers." The voice was nasally and high-pitched. It had to be Vademon.

/_Hurry! Hide the digivice!_/

Despite my own worries, I stuffed the digivice in my back pocket and tugged my shirt down to hide the evident bulge against my jeans. I tucked my hands in my pockets and leaned against the right wall next to the doorbell to appear nonchalant when Vademon appeared.

Instead of a door appearing from the walls like I had expected, he emerged straight from the ground! A hole about the size of a large beach ball was stuck in the opposite corner from the door bell, obscured by the shadows and the angle I had been previously staring at. But once Vademon stepped out of it, it was suddenly very hard to miss.

As was Vademon himself. I had to fight back the urge to flinch at the sight of him, knowing that such an action would only seek to irritate the guy who probably had my backpack. But he _was_ pretty creepy to stare at- a tall, freakishly lean pale body that stretched well over my own height, almond-shaped yellow eyes that thinned to slits as he observed me standing there, at least half a dozen slimy tentacles splicing off from his waist to act as a few-too-many legs, and a completely bared brain that took up at least a third of his monstrous height. I could imagine old fifties horror movies being based off of this guy- he was like parts of several different movie monsters _put together_.

When all of his tentacles finally emerged from the hole, he brought his hands together and splayed his long, ET-like fingers, his face stretching in an alarmingly wide smile.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" he said, eyes thinning in what I could only hope was delight. "A human customer? Not often I find myself with one of those. No, no, no, not at all. And a _young_ human, at that! No, I believe you are my first! My first in a very long time, that is! What a surprise! What a delight! What a delightful surprise, and a surprising delight! Oh my, oh my. What brings you to Vademon's humble hole, my dear?"

I wanted to shiver. Oh how I wanted to shiver. His voice was like the dreaded substitute teacher from hell, and the way he kept repeating himself and twisting his words back and forth was down right _creepy_! I took a deep breath to steady myself and replied, "Well, I had some… um, possessions of mine taken recently, and reliable sources told me you might be able to help me… erm, repossess them."

Vademon's smile grew, hard as that was to believe. He clapped his hands together excitably and his tentacles were all a slurry of frenzied movement beneath him, even though he didn't actually go anywhere. "Oh, my my my my my! You _are_ a customer! Marvelous! Human or digimon, all customers are welcome in Vademon's House of Curiosities! Yes they are! All are welcomed! And that includes you, my dear! You are very much welcomed! Yes! Please, come come come. Come in! Come! Come and make yourself comfortable! Come and see what Vademon has for you! Come come!"

Next thing I knew, he was slithering forward to rest a hand on my shoulder- that time, I couldn't resist the shudder of revulsion, but he seemed too overjoyed to notice- and urging me toward the holed entrance. I took small step after nervous small step, allowing Vademon to coax me toward the edge so I could peek over.

There were stairs- thank god for stairs!- leading down beneath the building with a thin row of lights lining the ceiling of the tunnel. It was a narrow path (how the heck did _Vademon_ get through there), but clearly the only way down. I didn't want to think of it being the only way out, either. Not if Vademon was going to be at my back. With a gulp and a prayer to whoever would listen, I started making my way down the stairs into Vademon's House of Curiosities.

I knew when Vademon swooped in behind me because the daylight that filtered over my back was gone. The overhead lighting- a scant foot-and-a-half above me- was bright yellow and a little nauseating to look at. I missed the sun already.

Vademon kept up a string of conversation behind me, obviously not expecting me to participate since I was hell bent on ignoring him anyway. Thankfully, the walk down wasn't long. I soon saw a wooden door after walking merely a few dozen feet. A particularly large yellow lamp hung just above the door, and below that was a sign that said, "_Vademon's House of Curiosities and Other Castaway Items_". Obviously he couldn't say "_Vademon's House of Stolen Items_", but I had a feeling that would be a better indication of what customers were likely to find behind the door.

"Please, please, my dear, walk right in!" Vademon exclaimed cheerfully. "Vademon's house is your house! Walk right on in! Look at whatever you like. It's all for sale! All of it! All for sale!"

I put a nervous hand on the door knob, uneasy as to what I'd find on the other side, and pulled the door open.

"Yes, yes, _all_ of it is for sale!" crowed Vademon.

And for once, in this circumstance, I could understand why he kept repeating himself. If he hadn't said it was _"all for sale"_ so many times, I might not have believed that it really was all for sale. Because "all" encompassed a _helluva_ lot of stuff!

Vademon's shop was _huge_! Mind-blowingly huge! I was suddenly standing in the largest building I've ever seen in my life! I craned my head back to stare at a ceiling that looked easily twenty times as tall as the building we had crawled under. And to look down the aisles was a dizzying headache waiting to happen, because I just couldn't see the end. At some fixed point in the distance, the aisles sort of blurred together so that I couldn't even guess as to how big this place really way. At least as big as Edge, if not much bigger.

And imagine a place almost unimaginably big filled with lots and lots and _lots_ of junk!

There were shelves reaching all the way up to the ceiling, each crammed with the most random things one could think of- baby pacifiers, snake skins, traffic cones, a tuba, a car tire, a whole elephant's tusk, a plastic lawn chair, a telephone booth, a spool of red thread, empty soda cans, a broken window. _Anything_ a mind could imagine was in this place, all lined up either on the shelves or stacked along the wall. I could have even sworn I saw bits and pieces of a wrecked _ship_ far off to the side. The massive size of the place and the quantity of its contents completely boggled my mind!

"Impressive, isn't it?" Vademon said after a while, grinning at my shocked expression. "Yes, yes, it is impressive. I expect you to think so, for it is impressive indeed. _Very_ impressive. I've spent ages collecting all my treasures! Ages and ages! Collecting and sampling and gathering and massing! All of it, mine! And all of it for sale!"

When I finally had enough sense to close my mouth and look at him, I couldn't help but notice the decidedly wicked glint that had appeared in his creepy yellow eyes. I felt like a mouse caught on the wrong end of a snake, completely and unwillingly transfixed by his deadly gaze.

"So, what can I interest you in, today?" he asked, maneuvering me toward one of his aisles. "I have both human and digimon curios for whatever desires may stumble upon your fancy! Human clothing, perhaps? I know clothing is a favorite choice among human females." Vademon pointed toward a rack of clothes that extended far past that vanishing point. I don't even think all the malls in America _combined_ have that many clothes.

"Or what about appliances?" he said, steering me in another direction. Flashes of stainless steel from hundreds upon hundreds of different devices winked at me. "Anything at all you need! Fridges, freezers, farm equipment, factory returns! Microwaves, mail sorters, machines that have no purpose at all! I have them, too! I have everything! I have all things! Anything!"

I was numb with shock, wordlessly letting Vademon parade me through his endless inventory- stacks of books that teetered back and forth between the aisles, parts and pieces of more automobiles than I could name, articles that I swore couldn't have been any less than four or five hundred years old, acres of scattered papers that could have reforested the planet for the next decade. Aisle after aisle, Vademon introduced me to some new tricket or bauble or piece of trash that he thought might rouse my interest. He paused for a moment by a column of small shelves that bore strange little sacks of liquid, different in their colors and quantities that he simply called "curiosities". I couldn't put a finger on what it was that creeped me out about them, but I was just as happy when we pressed on to the next spot of our tour.

We had traveled on in this fashion for nearly twenty minutes when I finally asked to stop. Vademon stopped speaking so quickly, he cut off his own sentence and looked at me expectantly, hoping I was ready for a purchase. His energy involved in making a sale was seemingly inexhaustible!

"Well, my dear? Have you made your decision?"

I hesitated, wondering how to word my request. "Well, Mr. Vademon, while your supply is absolutely astonishing, the best I've ever seen-" I noticed his chest swell a little with pride, and mentally gave myself a point, "-it's not exactly what I came here looking for."

"I see, I see," Vademon said, not put off at all. His eyes narrowed again, watching me very carefully, and he nodded his large bulbous head absently. "Well, well, my dear, what is it exactly that you came for? For I have it all, without a doubt. All of it I have hear. So whatever it is you need, I shall be more than happy to give to you. As I always say, 'A penny for your thoughts and a nickel for your fears'."

I let out a sigh of relief. Part of me was worried he'd be ticked off for wasting so much time with me. "See, what I'm looking for is a backpack. A dark blue backpack that has a large front pocket with a hole in it. It's got random keychains on the zippers and lots of writing on the canvas."

"Hmmm." Vademon leaned back on his hind tentacles to stroke long fingers against his chin. "A backpack you say?"

"Yes. It was stolen from me barely a few hours ago. If you have it, you would have gotten it not that long-"

Suddenly, Vademon's eyes widened in alarm, focused directly on me. "_If_ I have it! _IF I HAVE IT!_ Why, do you not know where you are? This is Vademon's House of Curiosities and Other Castaway Items! There is _nothing_ I do not have! I have it all! I have everything! Of _course_ I have your backpack! For a backpack is a thing, and I have all things! I have what you need! Vademon _always_ has what you need!"

And with that, he spun around and started stomp-slithering back the way we came, towards the door. I had no choice but to follow behind, jogging to keep up with the digimon's furious pace. He kept mumbling to himself, probably about my insolence at suggesting that his shop not carrying any item. With his attention focused elsewhere, I felt my back pocket vibrate and heard a soft voice whisper, /_You're doing great, Miss Warren!_/

Dix's reassuring words were far more of a comfort than I had expected. I wished more than ever that I could take the digivice out, having his reassuring presence around while I dealt with the ever-freaky Vademon. But I knew that Dix's warnings were all too true- if Vademon ever caught sight of the one thing he probably _doesn't_ have in his shop, I didn't want to think about how scary he'd be then.

We were just at the door- Vademon speeding down the pathway ahead of me while I stumbled to keep up- when he suddenly disappeared. I jogged up to where I last saw him, expecting to see another hole of some sort. But, surprise surprise, I saw instead a tall, thin door against the wall. If you weren't looking directly at it or within a few feet of it, you'd hardly notice it was even there. It lay completely flat with the wall and in the same beige-ish shade, making it nearly impossible to spot accidentally. It was now open, the door swinging inward, and I heard Vademon scouring the small, closet-like space. If I had to guess, I'd say this was where he stored new acquisitions before they got sorted to the aisles.

I'd have to remember to thank Dix for his hunch later.

"Here!"

I blinked, and found myself staring at my backpack, hanging not three inches from my face. Before I could stop myself, I screamed a cry of delight and snatched it from Vademon's long fingers, hugging it into my face. I may have even leaked a tear or two into the fabric. I had my backpack again!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vademon's shifty grin return, and suddenly regained control of myself. Even more, I had a rather sobering thought that nearly erased all of my new found joy.

What in the world was I going to pay him with?

_Why oh why didn't I think of this sooner?_ I whined to myself, taking the time to draw the backpack away from my face and maintain my composure. I made sure I brushed off the dust from the bag, stuck my head inside to check everything was still in there (everything except for the pen, highlighters, eraser and gum wrapper), delaying the inevitable until I came up with a plan. I didn't have any money, and even if I did I wasn't completely sure Vademon would accept American dollars anyway. I had nothing to trade with except the materials in the bag and the digivice, and I wasn't too eager to part with either of them. So what in the worlds was I going to do?

"I see you are pleased with the product, then?" Vademon asked, although we both knew the answer to that.

If nothing else, stroke his ego. "I see I made a mistake in thinking there was anything you didn't carry, Mr. Vademon. A clear error. I guess I won't be making that mistake again."

But this time, Vademon was not to be swayed. "A wise choice. Now, if that is all you require, shall we move into negotiations of price?"

_Wait. What did he say_? I saw a glimmering ray of hope. "Actually, I'm not sure that this is all I need," I said, carefully nonchalant.

Vademon frowned. "Oh, is that so?"

"Yes. There were actually more books and papers in here when last I had it." I opened the inside of the backpack to let him look inside. "No doubt the thief had done away with some of my things before giving them to you." _And to think, Mom said my lying would never amount to anything!_

Vademon's eyes flashed angrily. I thought for a moment that my lie was found out until he looked away, glaring at the wall. "That lying, cheating scoundrel! He said that this was all he found! He must have gone to my competitors with the rest. Ungrateful cretin! Miserable, disgusting excuse for a digimon!"

I gave myself a mental pat on the back. This might actually work! "Well, seeing as I need a little bit more than I thought, maybe this is an opportunity for us to do a little more business together."

_That_ brought the greedy sparkle back to his eye that I was looking for. He was rubbing his hands again and bowing toward me. "Why, of course, my dear! Such an excellent suggestion! What a clever little human you are! So smart and intelligent! Those like you make the very best customers! More business, indeed! Afterall, Vademon's House of Curiosities has everything you could ever want! Anything at all you need! For in my house, there is everything! You can find anything and every-"

"Yes, yes," I interrupted politely. He quieted instantly like a good little psychotic salesman. "Now, let me think- do you know the individual titles of the books you own, or will I have to search through them myself?"

Vademon gasped like he had been stabbed through the heart. "You? A customer? Search through my shop! Nonsense! Preposterous! Never have I heard such an outrageous thing! No, you shall wait here, and I shall fetch whatever it is your little heart desires!"

Inside, I cackled. _Mwahahahaha._ "Why, thank you! I'll have to tell everyone about the wonderful customer service here," I said, clearly charmed. "Now, I think all I need is about a hundred sheets of blank, lined paper- college ruled, mind you, and hole-punched- and if you have a copy of Carolyne Keene's Nancy Drew 9th book- I've completely forgotten the title- I'd really appreciate it."

The storekeeper made an attempt at an elegant bow. "Fear not, my dear. I shall have the items you need in no time at all. This is, afterall, Vademon's House of Curiosities, and I shall have whatever you need no matter your need."

"Thank you," I said warmly, and waved while he zoomed back down the aisle and out of sight in search of the items I need.

Perfect.

As soon as he rounded the corner, I had my backpack hoisted onto my back and I took off for the door as fast as I could. While Vademon took his time searching for the things I asked him for, I would be making my escape with my backpack in tow. And while I tried to feel at least a little bit guilty for stealing, it was hard to do knowing that Vademon bought my stuff knowing full and well that they were stolen and was fully prepared to _sell_ them back to me. The creepy jerk.

I yanked the door open, darted through and up the tunnel to fresh air. As soon as my head was out, I took a deep gulp full of it. As impressive as Vademon's place was, it was still under the ground.

Or was it really? There was no way that structure could be that high without poking out of the ground- we barely went down more than a dozen feet!

But that'd be a question for another day. Speaking of which…

"Dix!" I exclaimed, tugging my digivice out. "Dix, I got my backpack!"

/_Wonderful! Where are you?_/

"I'm right outside of Vademon's place. I kept him busy with searching for-"

/What!?_ Miss Warren, what are you still doing there!? Get out now befo-_/

"_There_ you are, you crafty little devil!"

I jumped, squeaked, and spun around all at the same time. There, right by the entrance, stood Vademon himself. To my amazement, he had both the book and a handful of papers- I bet it was exactly 100 sheets, too- clutched in one hand, and his deadly yellow stare was focused solely on me. There was a smile on his face, but unlike his congenial customer-first expression from before, there was nothing friendly about this gesture. It was evil, pure and simple, and focused _directly_ on me.

_Oh crap._

"Well, well, not quite the clever little human that I thought, are you?" he said, chuckling harshly. "No, no, not at all. A clever, smart human would never have _dared_ to steal from Vademon! No they wouldn't! Guards!"

From the entrance to the dead-ended alleyway- my only way out- emerged an imposing pair of digimon. Like two yellow teddy bears from hell, they stood at least ten feet tall and each step they took toward me was like a gentle earthquake. I knew these two from Mr. Leomon's lessons.

"Monzaemon! Arrest this human girl!" Vademon ordered. "I caught her stealing from my shop!"

Two sets of slitted red eyes snapped onto me, and I shrank back from the authority in their gaze. I was being _arrested_!? For stealing something that was already mine to begin with?

"B-but this is m-my b-bag!" I stammered. "S-someone s-st-tole it from me, and h-he was t-tr-trying to s-sell it back to m-me!"

/_Miss Warren, what's going on? There is static interference- I can't hardly hear you!_/

I almost wanted to smack my head against the wall. _Damn you, Dix, for speaking up _now_ of all times!_ Of course, like a magnet Vademon's eyes got sucked onto the digivice. I saw them widen for a fraction of a moment before they narrowed. "What is _that_?"

I glared at the digimon. "_Not_ yours!"

Vademon's eye twitched just slightly before he turned back to the teddy bear guards. "See? This little lying thief has even stolen something _else_ of mine without my being aware of it! Arrest her at once!"

"_WHAT!?_" I screeched, turning on him. "No way! This is _mine_, you lying little squid!" I turned to the Monzaemon. "He's lying so he can get his grimy hands on my digi- my analyzer! This doesn't belong to him! I'll admit that I stole the backpack, but _this_ is mine!"

"Dishonest little Demidevimon!" Vademon hissed. "Those are _both_ mine, and I shall see you in chains for your treachery! Give those to me!" Faster than I could have dreamed possible, Vademon darted forward and snatched both the digivice and the backpack from my hands. While I screamed in fury, he stood holding both over my head, laughing wickedly.

"Give those back, they're _mine!_" I ordered.

Vademon smiled his smug little smile at me and nodded at the Monzaemon. "You may take the girl now. I have what I nee- Hey!"

Suddenly, in a move that _neither _us expected, one of the Monzaemon stomped forward and grabbed both items from Vademon. His brain fumed red and he stomped a few tentacles on the ground like a child with a tantrum. "What do you think you are doing? I demand you return those to me at once!"

It was the other Monzaemon that spoke on behalf of his partner. "We cannot do that, Master Vademon." His voice was deep and gruff, like the actual animal his toy-like design was based off of. "These articles are to be submitted as evidence in the case against the human girl."

"_What!?_" Vademon bellowed, his face turning odd shades of purple.

"Human crimes cannot be tried the same way as Digimon ones," explained the Monzaemon as he stepped forward toward me. I took a nervous step back, but his movements were exaggerated and careful- he was trying not to startle me. "In accordance with the Human-Digimon acts, we must bring this matter into the city counsel for further review by the counsel board and local PALO representatives. It is out of your hands, Master Vademon."

I thought I detected a hint of derision in the Monzaemon's voice. It was clear that Vademon was _not_ a favorite among the townspeople. As the big fluffy guard gently scooped me up- but making sure I could not escape- I couldn't help but throw a smug smirk back at him. He growled audibly and shook his fist at us as the three of us retreated.

"Mark my words, I shall take this up with the counsel! I'll see you all arrested for this! You'll be sorry!"

* * *

_Vademon's creepy. Enough said. _

_And the 9__th__ volume of the original Nancy Drew series is "The Sign of the Twisted Candles", one of my personal favorites.­_

_And did anybody catch how Vademon said "And a young human… my first in a very long time…"?_ _Now, brownie points to any old school fans who can name his first young human customer._


	6. Jail Bird

Okay, just a quick note to anyone who has read up till here:

I am really sorry. It's been nearly four months since my last chapter, and for those who have been following this little pet project of mine, I'm really sorry I made you all wait. In my defense, my lagging had to do with more than just an inability to write: first off, my computer's power chord went kaput, and I had to wait nearly a month and a half for a new one; after that, our internet died (***shakes fist at AT&T***), and it took MONTHS to get it back; school started and took up a lot of my spare time; and then, at the end of all that... I just couldn't really write. I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go, but the words to say it all just wouldn't come. I wish I were one of those writers that could plan things out ahead of time to save me from a lot of headaches down the road, but unfortunately, I haven't reached that level of discipline yet. ***mourns***

That being said, your patience is an amazing thing. Thank you for waiting, PurpleDog and AngelsWings. ***snuggles***

I know I should have PurpleDog's corner here, but I really don't have much to say since the chapter was pretty much self-explanatory. Vademon's creepy. Backpack is moreorless Sara's teddy bear. We all still miss Little Black Blob.

End of story. XD

CUE LIGHTS!

_New Standard Disclaimer: As if anyone were to really believe that from MY writing could have ever emerged the original digimon series, nor any of the succesive seasons that followed. Really. Let me say it again- none of these people and/or digimon are mine, with the exception of Sara, her mom, and her sister. AND, this snarky little digimon who's name will be revealed in the next chapter. He's mine because he's sarcastic, witty, and a total pain-in-the-ass. I luffs him, so you can't have him!_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

**Jail Bird**

* * *

While the Monzaemon were polite enough and gentle in their handling of me, neither of them made for great conversationalists. They both stared straight ahead, marching in synch with each other without saying a word. As I sat huddled in the large arms of one of the guards, I was suddenly reminded of those soldiers at Buckingham palace with the red coats and the tall fuzzy hats that were known never smiling. The Monzaemon were practically their digital equivalents.

Still, it's hard to hate anyone who clearly dislikes Vademon nearly as much as I do, so I forgave them for it. Besides, I had little else to do but sit back and make myself comfortable while I waited to be delivered like a package through the mail. Oh joy.

At least the view was nice, though. The Monzaemon were winding back towards the main street I had entered from (whether it was the same path I took, I couldn't tell). But instead of turning left toward the Eastern gate, they went right, straight into the heart of the city.

It was getting to be early evening by now- the sun was at our backs, stretching our combined shadows far before us while the sky in the far north was beginning to turn dark blue. A few bright spots of stars poked through between the clouds, and I wondered idly whether there was an entire Digital Universe similar to ours with millions and billions of stars and planets within untold volumes of space. Back in the human world, we were barely beginning to discover the wonders of the Digital world, but really, who's to say that there is only one?

As we made our way down market street, I was stunned by the difference between what I saw and the place I had crossed barely an hour ago. The streets were empty, the skies devoid of their flying passengers, and all the stalls and tables bare. The laundry had been taken in and all the conversations were taking place behind closed doors and window shutters. The differences between this quiet place and the bustling street I had seen before were practically ying and yang.

Farther into the heart of Edge, I began to notice other subtle differences: the booths and stalls were gone, the stucco-like material was replaced by some smooth, butter-colored stone, and there were more pronounced spaces in between the buildings. The alleys in between were lit by evenly-spaced torch lamps and the cobblestone road was well swept. I had to assume that this was where the more elite class lived- that's how it normally is in our world, anyway. And thus far, I haven't seen too many differences between digimon culture and human civilization (except for the cannibalistic Ogremon, of course).

Pretty soon, our main street dead-ended at a large, square building with fresh white paint and no windows. There weren't any signs or clues about the identity of the place, but the double-doors with large brass handles were so authoritative looking that I had to guess that this was my final destination.

Here, the two Monzaemon split ways wordlessly- one went around the side of the building out of sight while the one carrying me marched straight toward the doors. He hardly seemed phased when he had to shift me to one arm so he could reach the door handle- he was just _that_ strong. Unbenownst to him, I took a deep breath and braced myself for whatever lay on the other side of those doors.

I could have sworn I felt the slightest bit of pressure on my side- almost like a comforting squeeze. I quickly swung my head around to look up at the Monzaemon's face, but he looked steadfastly ahead. Still, I had my suspicions…

At any rate, we were now inside the building and my attention was elsewhere diverted. The interior looked just as unremarkable as the outside: white walls, no windows, and only one door leading into the back half of the structure separated by a broad wall. The room smelled of old coffee and dust motes and was practically empty save for a small wooden desk that sat in the middle of the floor. Behind the desk sat the digimon I could only assume we were here to meet.

The Monzaemon walked forward to stand in front of the desk and I twisted my head around to get a better look at him. He sort of looked like a Furby, only with a little less chub and a lot more hair. It was light brown in color all over except for a mop of white strands on the top of his head. The white hair hung down in front of his face, completely obscuring his eyes and part of his rounded nose. He sat on a three-legged stool reading a huge book while tapping a long staff with a paw-shaped device on the end of it against his cheek absently.

The digimon didn't even look up when we entered. Monzaemon's thudding steps or his large hulking figure before the desk didn't rouse him at all. We stood there for a few moments, politely waiting for the furry digimon to pay attention to its guests, before Monzaemon finally lost patience and cleared its throat.

"Lord Jijimon?" it asked softly in its gruff voice. Privately, I thought, _Jijimon! I've heard of him before!_

From beneath the mop of white hairs came a scratchy voice, like that of an old man. "Great Gallantmon, what do you want? Can't you see I'm in the middle of something very important?"

"Lord Jijimon, I have a thief in custody for you to evaluate."

Jijimon waved a hand over his head dismissively, still not looking up from his book. "Then put them in one of the empty holding cells and stop pestering me with such nonsense!"

For a moment, all time stopped and my blood froze. _Wait… holding cell? I'm going to JAIL!?!_

Monzaemon shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Yes, sir, but… but this is… the suspect is a _human._"

_That_ seemed to catch Jijimon's attention. The white head jerked up (still couldn't see its eyes, though) to stare pointedly at me. At least, I could only _guess _he was staring at me- his nose was pointed at me, anyway. I squirmed in Monzaemon's grasp, and I thought I felt that ghostly squeeze again. There was a soft inhale from somewhere within Jijimon's facial hairs, and he suddenly thrust the book from the table and climbed on it himself. He used his paw staff to leverage himself onto his feet- he was actually very short- and leaned forward to peer curiously at me. Instinctively, I curled into Monzaemon.

"Oh my," Jijimon said in awe, "you _are_ a human, aren't you?" He reached out to poke me in the arm with his staff.

"Hey!" I cried, nerves vanishing beneath my irritation. "That hurts! Cut it out!"

"It does? Truly?" Jijimon sounded delighted, as if he had just made a remarkable discovery. His nose was pointed at my face for a few more moments before it turned toward Monzaemon. "Tell me, how did _you_ come to find this human child?"

Monzaemon straightened himself out and prepared to give his report. "Sir! My partner and I were walking patrol in the Eastern Prefecture when we heard a call for guards. Upon arriving on the scene, we found this human with the articles in question. According to _Master _Vademon-" Here, I was pleased to see, was that same disdain as before. Jijimon snorted scornfully; Vademon _obviously_ wasn't a favored citizen of Edge's justice system. "-the human had stolen the items from his mobile shop found on the corner of Mud Puddle Street and Dover. The human denied the claims. So, without any protocol to follow, we decided to bring the human to you to administer judgment."

"I see," Jijimon said, nodding and rubbing a hand against its chin hairs. "And you're right- there _is_ no precedence to such an event. A human stealing from a digimon is most-"

"Wait a minute!" I interrupted, annoyed that I was being so ignored. "Let me just get my side straight- _I_ was the one stolen from, not Vademon. Vademon was the one who took my backpack and wanted to _sell_ it back to me. And _then_, he tried to pretend that my analyzer was also his, but it's not! Both of them belong to me!"

Both digimon stared at me like I had suddenly sprouted a second head, and I felt my nerves slowly creeping back. My cheeks burned and I wanted to tuck myself back into Monzaemon, but I fought to hold their gazes anyway. Looking away would just make me look that much more guilty. That's what all the criminals on CSI did…

"So she _does_ talk," Jijimon murmured in wonder.

I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

"Nonetheless," he continued, "I'm afraid we have no other choice but to place you in a holding cell."

"_What_!?" I squawked. "Why?"

Jijimon sighed. "Because Monzaemon is correct- there simply is no precedence for this. Even if this wasn't Vademon we were referring to and he _weren't_ the most vile, pitiful excuse for a digimon alive, we'd still have to turn you over to the local human representatives. It's simply out of our hands. To not do so could easily rupture human-digimon relations everywhere."

I sat back, eyes wide and jaw slack. _Wow. I didn't realize my presence here would be such a big deal._

"Besides," Jijimon added, hopping neatly off the desk, "keeping you in a cell and out of sight would be considerably safer for you if a shady fellow like Vademon is still unhappy with you." _Good point,_ I agreed, looking down at the mop-headed digimon. Standing on the ground like that, I realized that his nose barely came up to my waist. Part of this was because that as he waddled toward the back door, he folded the arm not holding the paw staff folded behind his back, and his entire body was bent forward like an old man. But there had been a definite spring in his movements when he noticed me for the first time. I suspected that there was more energy in the old digimon than he let on. Had to be, I guess, for a digimon sheriff.

With me still curled up in his arm, my Monzaemon marched forward, following Jijimon to the back room where the cells were. The iron cages were fixed against the wall in a roughly "U"-shaped formation, with four cages lined up against each side and two more long cells placed on the back wall. Each cell was stocked with a small bed attached to the cement wall, a sink and mirror, and a small stool. Like the front of the building, there were no windows, and the only lamp came from two shade-less light bulbs hanging from the ceiling over the central walkway. Jijimon stood next to one of the long cells, fumbling with a brass ring of ancient-looking keys.

"The best I can do is one of these long cells here," he was saying as he flipped through one key after another. "If we had a better place to keep you, we would, but we don't. At least there isn't anyone else here to bother you."

My Monzaemon cleared his throat once. "Um, sir? That's not true."

Jijimon paused in his key search, turning his head and pointing his nose at the two of us. "Eh? It isn't?"

"No sir." Monzaemon shook his head and raised a paw to point at the other long cell. "The interloper we discovered this afternoon, remember?"

All eyes turned toward the second cell, and sure enough, there was a distinctive lump on the bed beneath the tattered blanket. _Great_, I thought dryly. _I'm roommates with a felon._

Jijimon stared blankly for a moment before he snorted, sending the hair hanging over his nose flying. "Ah, yes. _Him_. Well, I don't believe he'll prove much of a problem. He's been quiet all day. Haven't heard so much of a word since you brought him in."

"But sir, the girl might-"

"Baldering Beetlemon, I say it'll be fine! We can call some of those humans in here by morning, and it'll be out of our hands. Just a half-day more. That fellow won't cause too much- ah hah! Here it is!" From the bunch of keys, Jijimon pinched at a rusted brass one with three prongs and a square head. Sure enough, when he put it into the cell door, the lock gave an audible click and sprang open.

Monzaemon didn't even put me down- he carried me into the cell and gently set me on the bed. I placed my hands on either side of me, testing the mattress carefully. It felt like sitting on cardboard, but seeing as I was more-or-less in prison, I figured I wasn't really in a position to complain. Besides, regardless of the fact that they were throwing me in jail for otherwise no good reason, I could at least recognize that Jijimon and Monzaemon were good digimon simply trying to do what was right. Couldn't really fault them for that.

At that moment, the other Monzaemon appeared at the doorway and saluted smartly. "Jijimon, sir. The articles in question have been reported, filed and secured."

Jijimon nodded. "Good work. We'll leave those for the humans to inspect as well. Keep that dirty Vademon from getting his hands on 'em." The elderly digimon turned once again to me, sighing before he spoke. "Well, I'm afraid this is where we have to leave you."

I let out a sigh of my own. "I guess I understand. I wouldn't want all your human-digimon relations to be screwed up because of me."

"Indeed." Jijimon ushered Monzaemon out of the cell- _my_ cell- and gently pushed the door shut until the lock once again clicked in place. "Now, these two will be getting back onto their patrols, but I'll be right at my desk. Just holler if you need anything, okay?"

"Holler. Got it." I looked at the pair of Monzaemon that stared with unreadable expressions back at me and offered them a small smile. "I guess I should thank you guys- you know, for helping me out back in the alley."

Neither said a word, but the Monzaemon that had carried me out gave a sharp nod before turning to his partner as they both made their way out the door. I was a little sad to see them go- I was almost positive I didn't imagine those comforting squeezes I had felt before. But before I could offer a fond farewell, they were gone. Not long after they left, Jijimon shuffled back through the door, and I heard him settling back into his book at the desk.

And… well, for better or for worse, I was still sitting in a jail cell.

With nothing else to do, I twisted onto the bed so I could lean back against the cement wall and stretch my legs out, one ankle propped on top of the other. Mindlessly, I stared at a random point on the far wall next to the door, letting my thoughts drift absently. More than ever before, I wished I had my digivice with me so I could talk to Dix. Irritating as that digimon could be, he had a knack for talking sense, and right now, sense was something I could use an abundance of.

_Well, I suppose I won't have to worry too much longer, though,_ I reasoned. _Jijimon said that there would be humans here by tomorrow morning. Researchers, probably. I had already planned on going to them anyway; this just saves me a trip. I'll be able to tell them my story and be on my way toward finally getting home. Dix will just have to find someone else to figure out that whole virus thing- someone more capable than me._

In my head, that all sounded fine and dandy, but elsewhere there were things that still didn't sit right.

First of all, there was that comment Jijimon made about human-digimon relations. It was an avenue I hadn't considered before. I thought that by informing someone of my presence, it'd sort of work like getting lost at sea- someone would send out a search and rescue, I'd be saved, and come barreling home to crowds of relieved friends and family and strangers alike. That's more or less how I had envisioned my triumphant return, give or take a few sympathetic individuals that felt sorry for my harrowing ordeals or little kids begging me to recount my adventures. I never for a minute imagined any sort of reception other than positive- the fact that I might be in trouble never once crossed my mind, let alone trouble of such magnitude.

Jijimon's statement gave me something to seriously consider. What might _really_ happen if I were found wandering around in the Digital World?

Well, there'd be questions, for one. _Lots_ of questions. Lots of questions that I couldn't even begin to answer, even if I _was_ still interested in taking Dix down- which I was only slightly surprised to find I wasn't anymore. I suppose we've been through enough to reach a sort of camaraderie between each other. And on top of the questions, I can't imagine they'd be very happy about a _teenager_ being in a place where there were less than three dozen people in _the world_ permitted access. This place had higher security than the White House- and here was little 'ole me, strolling along in the forest.

And what would happen if they ever found out that it was a _digimon_ that technically kidnapped me and brought me here? Hell, I could only imagine what my _mom_ would do- file a few lawsuits, terrorize some Congressmen, rally some newspapers and media groups, throw pebbles at windows and eggs at cars. Heaven forbid she get anyone _important_ to fight on her side. And what about that anti-digimon guy that mom was always going on about- Lee? Lewis? Loe-something or other. If he found out that a kid was kidnapped by digimon, he might have the support he needs to get rid of digimon in the Real World for good! I thought about Otamamon and Mr. Leomon and Togemom… even that prissy Biyomon- if all of them, as well as all the digimon in our world, were to be shoved back into here like a bunch of criminals… because of me…

Suddenly, finding a friendly human to give me a quick lift home didn't sound like so great of an idea. The very thought of the possible consequences- the consequences that, before, I was only too happy to ignore if it meant I'd be going home- made me feel a bit nauseous. I never imagined I would ever be happy to be sitting in jail.

Then I had a sobering thought that made my stomach feel even worse- Jijimon had said humans were coming in the morning. _Human_ humans- like the kind that could get me into a _lot_ of trouble if they found out I was here.

Yet another thing I'd never imagined I'd do- I had to bust out of this jail before the researchers came.

My head fell back to thump against the cement, face crumpled in weariness. "Dix, you butthead. What on earth have you gotten me into?"

"My name isn't Dix."

The voice came out of nowhere so suddenly that I jumped and squeaked before I could stop myself. Naturally, my head jerked back and met with the cement wall in a less than pleasant manner. "Crap!" I hissed, gingerly prodding the back of my head. _That_ was certainly going to sting. "Freakin' stupid idiotic moron of a wall! Be glad I don't have a sledge hammer you damn-"

"You know, the last human I met talked to himself a lot, too," came the voice again, dry and sardonic. "Is that something common with your species?"

For a moment, while I was focused on the pain, I had completely forgotten about what it was that had startled me in the first place. Now that I was remembering, my head spun around in search of the speaker. But there was no one else here. No one had come through the door since Jijimon returned to his desk and all the other cells were empty.

All except…

I turned to my right, and sure enough, the blanket that had been on the bed was now on the ground. Seated in its place was a digimon Mr. Leomon had never talked about before.

It looked like a tall, silver cat standing on its hind legs like a person. This one was leaning back against the wall, much the same way I was, with one leg tucked against its chest while the other dangled not quite to the ground. An elbow was perched on it knee, and its golden gaze was focused straight ahead. The digimon's face was small and delicate, and in place of whiskers there were three parallel lines running across it's cheeks in a design that reminded me of the golden circuits on microchips. Similar lines striped from just above its eyes to behind its head, and lines ran along its arms to end at the back of each fist. Each ear was a dark grey cone, mapped with those same circuit patterns. Its entire body was sleek and lithe, like a professional boxer in shape.

Was it the one who-

"And for the record, I am _not_ a butthead."

Yup. It was him.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I… I wasn't really talking about you."

Golden eyes slid toward me. "I figured. The whole 'talking-to-yourself' thing, right?"

Now, courtesy demanded I give this stranger the benefit of the doubt and offer polite correction when being an ass. But he was being an _ass_, and stubborn defensiveness automatically won out over common courtesy. I glared at him and retorted, "Hey, shut up. I was just speaking my thoughts aloud! Nothing wrong with that!"

"Of course not. It's utterly normal… for crazy people."

_What the _hell_ is his problem!?_ I thought, fuming. Here I was, sitting in _jail_, trying to think up a way to not be responsible for the downfall of digi-kind, and this _jerk_ was pulling cracks at me! I sneered. "I don't have to listen to the annoying jabber of a _convict_."

I could have sworn I saw a corner of his muzzle tilt in amusement. "From what I can see, you're every bit as much of a convict as I am, _human._"

I recognized that tone in his voice. I only heard it from my mother every other day. That's probably what prompted the knee-jerk reaction. "It was _not-my-__**fault**__!!!_"

The digimon just sat there with that stupid little half-grin on his face, saying nothing.

I snorted and scooted myself down the bed so I could lay on my side, facing the wall. "Jerk!" I didn't have to sit here and listen to him. Besides, I didn't have time to waste. There had to be a way to get out of this place, and I had to figure it out _now_. With my head pillowed on my arm, I drew to mind every jail-busting movie I had ever watched, trying to draw any clues they might offer toward the perfect escape plan.

Well, first of all, there were only two ways out of that cell- either through the front or through the back. And since I neither had dynamite or the ability to phase through walls, it looked like my only option was to somehow open my door. Which meant, somehow or other, I would need to get the key.

Last I remembered, though, Jijimon had the key. I don't remember where he pulled it from or where he placed it, but I knew he walked through the door with the big ring of them. Even if I somehow got the digimon sheriff to come back here, there was no guarantee he'd have the keys with him. For all I knew, they were hanging on a nail somewhere on one of the walls. So, I couldn't rely on unlocking my cell door by conventional means. Which left me with somehow figuring out how to pick it.

Gee, let me just employ my handy dandy lock picking expertise that I keep in my back pocket for just such emergencies.

With a groan, I rolled onto my stomach and folded my arms under my chin, staring at the wall. I was noticing a pattern, here- every idea I was coming up with kept getting shot down by pure logic. I either didn't have the materials or didn't have the skills to get myself out of here. Once again, I found myself wondering what the heck Dix had been thinking, trying to recruit a human child like me to help save the digimon. I already told him- I'm barely a teenager; he needed someone more capable than me to help him. Maybe not someone with the skills necessary to bust out of jail, but at least someone who was smart enough to not to get herself carted to jail in the first place.

Anyone but me.

For a long moment, I lay there, glaring at the wall, hating the predicament I was in and feeling helpless. But then, I scooted forward to lightly rap my forehead against the concrete and shake the thoughts loose from my head. This wasn't the time to feel sorry for myself- I could do that _after_ I figured a way out of here. At best, I only had a few hours before sunrise and the human researcher came. I had to keep _thinking._

_What is it that I need to get out of here?_ I asked myself, trying to think around the problem. _Superhuman strength would be nice, so I could bust through the walls. Or how about laser vision to cut through the bars? Or if only I could shrink myself to simply walk out-_

_Okay, Sarah cut it out. This _isn't_ helping._

I let my thoughts drift as I pondered the question again. _I need something to work the lock with. Something sharp and thin that will push at the gears. Although, _I admitted ruefully, _if I'm really planning on trying to pick the lock, I'd need to know what I'm doing. Now if only I had a criminal action handbook to study off of… or…_

I suddenly pushed myself up, eyes wide and head snapping to the side.

_Or a criminal._

A part of me realized the stupidity and inherent danger in requesting help from a digimon that likely deserved his incarceration a lot more than I did. But the longer I thought about it, it was becoming more and more obvious that there was no way I could pull this off on my own. And because I didn't have time, that also meant I didn't have a choice.

* * *

_For the record, the digimon that appeared in today's chapter WILL be named, and I'm trying to work up a decent character sheet for him so you can actually see what he looks like. The only picture I have is rather lame, so I have to make him look as cool as he really is. Although, going in tempo with my chapter updates, Lord only knows how long it'll take me to get it done. But it WILL be done!!!_


	7. Making Their Escape

Soooo... how was your holiday, lovely people? Spending time with family (which, depending on the family, could either be a good thing or a very _very_ bad thing...)? Eating yummy holiday food? The getting and giving of presents? What exactly did you guys get? Did you get what you asked for, or was it another year of gawdy sweaters and underwear in the stocking? ... or did you _ask_ for underwear in the stocking?

...hmm...

Anywho, mine was SPECTACULAR! A week of playing some of the most awesome board games with up to _10 cousins at once!!!_ Apparently, I have a knack for Jim Carrey impressions. XD And oh good Lord, but does my Mema know how to _cook_ or what!? If I didn't gain at least six pounds over the course of that week, than I wasn't giving her enough of a compliment. Dudes, we're talking about pork ribs, Pumpkin dessert, chocolate and peanut butter cookies, chocolate-dipped Christmas treats, a feast fit for a handful of kings and their royal court. Ohh... I can't wait until next year... *pats tummy contentedly*

Anywho... back to Digimon!

Yes, I know this chapter took a while in coming... as I warned you it would. :) And I have no excuses to offer, simply because there were none. I either didn't have the time or I didn't have the inspiration. Bah. But, that's life, right?

Okie Dokie, onto PurpleDog's Corner:

You must learn some patience, young grasshoppah! Trust me, it'll do you a world of good in the long run. And may I say that I'm _extraordinarily_ glad that you didn't start bugging me for updates- I honestly am not one for being bothered for something that I enjoy doing in my free time that's really for my own benefit. :)

And you didn't think much happened last chapter? Getting thrown in jail isn't a lot? XD It certainly would be for me! I'd be freaking out, not too unlike Sara did. And yes, you're right... I was such a dork, I completely forgot how to spell my own character's name. Very much a sign of not having written enough. On the other hand, as this fanfic is written in her perspective and there's been little but Dix to interact with, there hasn't been much of a chance to use her name all that often, so I probably would have forgotten it sooner or later. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if I forgot it again. Hopefully this next semester will find me with better opportunities and inspiration so that this will not be a problem.

And at last, we'll find out the name of the snarky digimon!

_Semi-Standard Disclaimer: *sigh* You'd think we'd have learned this by now. But let me say it so I can keep what little money I have- Digimon do not belong to me. It'd be cool if they did though, if the owner of digimon suddenly decided to take pity on my poor studently self and deposit them all in my lap ('cept Vademon, cuz he's creepy), but until that happens, they do not belong to me. And some of the humans don't belong to me, with a few random exceptions like Sara, her family, her wacky friends, and maybe a few others that I'll throw in for good measure somewhere along the line. OH! And the digimon ( I won't name him until the next disclaimer, so you'll have to read the chapter to find out XD) belongs to me, too. Every single scrap of data- it's all mine! Cuz he's cool like dat._

* * *

**Chapter 7**

**Making Their Escape**

* * *

If someone had told me three days ago that I'd be turning to a condemned criminal- and a _digimon_ one, too- for help in order to escape from a prison facility _in the Digital World_, I'd probably be laughing so hard that I'd break something. Adventure was a thing I'd fantasize about, but internally, I knew I was far too lazy and inept to be one of those heroines from the books and movies I enjoyed. Contrary to whatever my mom thought, I was very much aware of the difference between fantasy and reality; I had a very realistic view of my capabilities, and thus, my expectations.

I expected to get into moderate classes in my sophomore year, NOT excelled classes, and to get out of them with moderate marks.

I expected to graduate (if only barely), get into a community college, and figure out how to get a cheap degree that would get me an okay-job.

I expected to do just enough so that Mom wouldn't be on my back about everything for the rest of my life.

I _never_ expected that my plans for lifelong apathy would land me in jail. But, now that I was here, I had to do what I could to get out. My apathetic life could resume itself after I was back in my own world because right now, it certainly wasn't going to get me out of here.

Which meant…

I tried to rearrange my face so that it didn't look so annoyed, and twisted around so that I faced my neighboring cell. With a hand propped up to rest my head against, I let my other hand draw circles in the bed, wondering how I was going to begin what had to be the most awkward conversation of my life.

"So, you never did say what you were in here for," I said, not sure if I was exactly nonchalant.

The digimon was still looking ahead aimlessly. He didn't even turn his eyes toward me. "I thought you had made up your mind not to speak to the 'jerk'."

_Yeah, well, that's before I realized I needed you to get out of here._ Of course, I didn't say that aloud, but I had to school my face so that my expression wouldn't be as telling.

I heard my neighbor chuckle. "And of all the conversation starters you could have chosen, you want to know why I got thrown in _here_?"

I had to choose my words carefully. "Well, there's not anything _else_ to do. And besides, much as I hate to admit it, you were right."

"I usually am," he said shamelessly.

_Don't glare. Don't glare. Don't glare._ "I meant, about us both being in here. In… jail. It wasn't fair of me to make judgments about you, but then turn around and get anal because you were doing the same thing to me. I mean, for all I know, you were put here on accident, too."

"Oh, it wasn't an accident," he replied, and this time, I could see the wicked grin. "I was caught with hundreds of digi-dollars of stolen stuff that pretty much said the same thing."

I tried not to gulp audibly. _Well, so much for that idea._ "Oh. I… I see."

"Yes, _some_ of us have actually earned our places here," he added, in a tone that suggested he was _proud_ of his accomplishments. I think the correct term was a "Cheshire cat smile", no pun intended.

"You say that like someone who's been here more than a few times," I said quietly.

I heard a distinctive snicker. "Well, that depends- are you speaking figuratively or literally? Because if you're speaking literally, as in this particular place, then no, this is only my first visit. But if you had meant figuratively on behalf of the entire digital justice system… well…"

"Never mind," I interrupted, scowling. "I think I can guess what you're going to say."

The digimon fell silent, but his grin grew a notch bigger.

I wanted to bang my head against the wall again. _Of all the criminals I had to be stuck with, it just _had_ to be this smart-aleck little-_ "I'm surprised that a digimon of your record gets let off so lightly. No offense, of course, but don't they have a more efficient means of punishment than just sticking you in jail with a light slap on the hand?"

My neighbor shrugged. "A justice system is something we adopted from you humans. We haven't had centuries to perfect the art of torture and abuse, yet."

I frowned. "Contrary to popular belief, we're not all about killing and maiming and abusing."

"Forgive me, then," he said, not sounding apologetic at all.

I had to do the '_Don't glare'_ chant again for nearly a minute before I was sure I could speak again. As if merely being in this place weren't bad enough. He was making _everything_ difficult for me. I didn't know what to say, or how on earth I was going to convince him to help me at this rate.

But to my surprise, as I was busy brooding, _he_ was the one to speak again. "Besides, it's rather difficult to cast judgment on a digimon that isn't there to receive it," he added smugly.

I sat up, interested. _This_ sounded promising. "Oh? You're an escape artist as _well_ as a wanted criminal?"

The digimon laughed softly and leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Just two among my many bestowed titles."

My spidey senses tingled. "So, I take it you weren't planning on staying her for the deluxe tour."

"Nope. As a matter of fact, your arrival sort of interrupted my departure. Thanks for that, by the way."

I flashed back one of his one wicked smiles. "Anytime."

He snorted and resumed his staring off into space.

I let the silence sit for a moment before I casually brought up my question. "So… if you're going to be leaving, soon, anyway… um… do you want some company?"

"Ah hah!" he suddenly exclaimed, sitting up and turning toward me for the first time. His legs were folded on the bed and his hands grasping his ankles. Only when his back was away from the wall did I notice a pair of tiny black wings sprouting from his shoulders and a black tail with an arrow-shaped tip.

I frowned, confused. "'Ah hah' what?"

"So _that's_ what you've been trying to get at all this time," he said, eyes narrowing. "I was wondering what it was that you wanted from me when you started talking- now I know."

I tried to act affronted. "So, I can't simply start up a conversation because I want to? Or even because I'm dreadfully bored? Is paranoia a common ailment of you digimon, then?"

He ignored my defense completely. "You just want my help in getting out of here, that's all. Probably because you're utterly useless as a prison breaker, and you wanted someone who knew what they were doing."

I winced. _Damn_. "Okay fine, I'll admit it. I _do_ need your help. I can't let Jijimon call up those human researchers to come claim me, or there'll be more trouble for more people AND digimon than I want to be responsible for. So, will you help me?"

"What, and leave a perfectly innocent human girl with a tarnished record?" he sneered. "I'd be doing you a favor by letting you stay and face good, honest, stupid justice."

I leapt out of my bed and was across the cell in milliseconds, but he was faster. My hands reached through the bars only to grab at empty air. I glared at him from where he stood at the opposite corner, arms folded over his chest and tail twitching idly. "Look, I already told you- I _can't_ let the other humans know I'm here. I have to get out of here by morning, and _you're_ the only way that can happen."

"And why should I help you?" he asked, both curious and irritated. "As far as I know, you can't do anything for me. And like it or not, our little conversation about my previous exploits hasn't exactly warmed me to you in the least bit. Unless, of course, you have something of value, in which case we can begin-"

"Geez, you sound like Vademon," I snapped, disgusted. I was pleased when I saw his mischievous smirk vanish. Sheesh, was there _no one_ who didn't hate Vademon? "Always greedy and self-centered and looking for profit."

"Why you little-"

"How about this- you agree to get me out of here and help me get my stuff back, and I _won't_ start screaming your escape plans to Jijimon?" I said. His eyes went wide for a moment before they narrowed in contempt. _Heh, I've got him cornered now._ "Afterall, he is only in the next room. And if he figures out that you're planning to escape, I don't think even _your_ justice system is crappy enough to risk leaving you in such a weakly guarded place again. Next time, you might not make your escape quite so easily."

I knew I was as good as out of there by the darkening expression on the digimon's face. His arms had long since been unfolded from his chest, and the fists at his sides were shaking with suppressed rage. "I should just destroy you and be done with the annoyance."

"Sure, go ahead, see if I care," I replied, shrugging. "But you know that with the harming of a human would come the _human_ justice you despise so much. As you yourself said, we've had centuries to perfect our methods of torture and abuse."

"Don't forget scheming, treachery and blackmail," he hissed. "It seems I've never given your species enough credit for those as well."

I thought of Vademon, and whoever it was that had stolen my backpack in the first place. "Then that's something we have in common. So, do we have a deal?"

The digimon snorted. "Don't kid yourself. Stop acting as if you're giving me a choice!"

"Oh, but I am. Sort of a 'pick your poison' kind of choice, perhaps, but it's a choice all the same."

"Yeah, right," he grumbled.

I grinned, satisfied. That was as much of an answer as I was likely to expect from him. But at least I knew I was getting out of here for sure. For some unexplainable reason, I felt a surge of adrenaline rushing through me like a rush, making my heart beat faster and my breath come short. As crazy as it sounds, I was _excited. _Here I was, about to break out of prison, and while the terror of being caught and submitted before the humans was still there, it was being overpowered by the sheer thrill of the challenge.

Mom would never forgive me if she ever found out how psyched I was to be busting out of "the slammer".

"So, _partner_," I said just to tick him off, "what's the plan?"

The digimon rolled his eyes. "Maybe breaking us both out will be a blessing, afterall. If it gets me away from you sooner, all the better. Just… stay out of the way."

I was fine with that, so I turned around to sit back on my bed, watching him do his work. I still didn't know what it was he planned to do, but I doubted he'd be partial to any of my questions, so I merely sat back and watched him as he approached the bars and began inspecting the lock. It was set into the cell door, like the cells from old Western movies, and to me looked like a hefty chunk of metal that I couldn't even begin to break into. I wondered if the digimon was going to try to pick the lock, like I had envisioned, but when he stepped back and slid into a fighter's stance, I guess that wasn't what he had in mind.

Then, to my amazement, he started to glow. The circuit lines on his face and arms were alit with pale yellow light, and he was rearing back his right paw as if readying himself to punch. As I watched, the lights seemed to course down the circuits into that same fist, gathering energy for what I could only guess was an attack of some sort. And, sure enough-

"_Data Punch!"_ he exclaimed, lashing out and slamming his fist into the lock. Now, had I done it, I would have ended up with bruised knuckles and an unchanged lock. But to my surprise, the instant fist met metal, the air shimmered and the surface of the lock fizzed out into a cloud of light blue… what were they? Dots? Shapes? …numbers?

_It's data,_ I thought, shocked. _He turned the lock into data!_

But even as I watched, I saw the numbers begin to reassemble themselves, slowly reforming the metal lock box they had been programmed to be. But before they were completely restored, the digimon shoved at the door. Without a completely solidified lock to keep it in place, the door swung open as easily as if it were never locked in the first place. The digimon stepped out of his cell, looked around, and stretched.

"Ahem," I said pointedly. "Don't forget about me!"

"If only it were that easy." But, as promised, he turned and repeated the attack on my cell door. I pushed at the same time he punched, and just like his did, my door opened almost without effort.

"That's a handy trick," I said. "So, that's how you've gotten out of all the other places you've been caught in?"

"Now isn't exactly the best time for chatting," he replied coolly. "We still have to get out of here."

"Can't you just use your punch thingy on the walls? Go straight out?"

He shook his head. "Too thick. The data clouds don't penetrate that far, and even if they did, we couldn't get out before it begins to reprogram. We'd be stuck in the middle of the wall."

"Gotcha. So we go through the front door, then?"

"If you'd only stop asking questions, we'd be _through_ by now!" he hissed impatiently.

While I'd love to have snapped back at him, I had to admit he had a point. So, I shut my mouth and together we crept up to the door that led back into the front room. There was a small window in the top half that peeked into the other side, and since I was the only one tall enough to reach it, I sidled up along the door (like I had always seen in the movies) and peered into the glass.

Nothing had changed. The Monzaemon were gone, and Jijimon was still sitting at his desk with the book resting in front of him. There was a harsh tone to his breathing that I didn't hear before- sort of nasally and grating- but he was still sitting not more than five feet away from us. Unless the digimon had another trick up his sleeve, there was no way we were going to sneak past him.

"Well? What do you see?"

"It's just Jijimon. Everyone else is gone. He's at his desk, reading. We can't sneak past him if he's sitting right in front of our only way out!"

The digimon cracked his knuckles. "Leave that to me."

"Are you kidding?" I hissed, turning to face him. "Jijimon's a _mega_! Aren't you, like, just a rookie?"

"Level doesn't matter if you know how to use what you've got," he replied testily. "Just because he's a mega doesn't mean he's a capable fighter. Jijimon's true strength is his wisdom- other than that, he's slower than a Tortisemon. All I have to do is stun him and outrun him. Or rather, outrun _you_."

I glared. "Gee, thanks."

He sneered back at me. "I agreed to set you free- _keeping_ your freedom is up to you."

"Fine! But you also agreed to help me get my stuff back, don't forget! And in order to get my stuff, we _both_ need to get out of here… _together_."

The digimon snorted but said nothing else. I was relieved to see he was at least a digimon that kept his word, if only grudgingly. The look he gave me suggested he was regretting the same temporary honorability I was complimenting.

"Very well, what do _you_ suggest?" he snapped. "Since you're so keen to share your opinion?"

"_I_ certainly don't know!" I hissed. "Of the two of us, _I'm_ not the criminal mastermind, here!"

"Flattery will get you nowhere." He stooped into a crouch, resting elbows on knees in what I could only assume was a thinking pose. I watched him as he stared aimlessly into space, brows furrowed. My eyes kept getting drawn to the black wings and black tail absently until I remembered _exactly_ what they reminded me of- he looked a little like a demon.

I fought the urge to snort. _Figures._

To keep myself occupied, I looked back through the window, keeping an eye on our prison keeper. From this angle, I could only really see the back of his shaggy white head, but it was bowed over the book on the desk, luckily too preoccupied to glance back toward his wards. If Jijimon had no reason to suspect we'd be out of our cages and hovering behind the door, I suppose he really had no reason to look back. He must have had a long history of cooperative inmates in this place.

As I thought about it, I realized that this was a pretty small jailhouse for what seemed like a pretty big town. I had spent the better part of the afternoon walking around Edge's borders in order to enter the city from the east, like Dix had suggested, and could tell just from the little I saw of its outside that the whole town was quite a large set up. Not exactly large by a human's standpoint- this was no Los Angeles, trust me. But I had always envisioned the Digital World as full of tiny, dusty little towns and villages with dirt roads stretching from one end to the other and all the inhabitants lined up on either side in little shabby houses. Almost Wild West-ish, in a way. In the two days since I've arrived, nearly everything I've seen has ruined every daydream I ever had about the place and its residents.

_If I don't figure something out, before I know it, I'll end up becoming a Digital World resident, too_, I thought glumly. I began to imagine what I'd do when I got back home- the stories I would tell my friends, the bragging rights I'd have over that snobby Biyomon, what in the world I'd tell my mother…

"Has the old man moved at all, yet?" the digimon asked, interrupting my fantasizing.

"No," I replied. "He's still just sitting there, reading his book."

The digimon grumbled under his breath, clearly displeased by this news.

I tried to let my mind drift back to its previous thoughts, but for some reason, they refused to wander. I was staring at the back of Jijimon's head, irritated over the fact that I kept concentrating on it instead of daydreaming about home, when I realized that something was bothering me. What it was, I couldn't tell, but something was definitely… off.

Unconsciously, I straightened up and peered through the window, studying the room on the other side. As far as I could see, nothing had changed: the door was closed, the room was empty, the book was empty and Jijimon was breathing as though he had a stuffy nose. But still, I couldn't shake off the feeling that-

…wait…

Suddenly, I pressed my face against the glass and stared hard, trying to read the open page of the book I saw. Was that…?

Before I knew what I was doing, my hand was on the handle, gently turning and pressing against the door until it started to move. Beside me, the digimon's ears twitched and he spun around to gape at me. "What the _hell_ do you think you're-" he began to hiss, but the door was already open, and he had to clamp his mouth shut with a dark glare at me. But I wasn't paying attention to him. I was slipping through the gap between door and wall and doing my best to creep forward.

Now, I could hear that throaty breathing far more clearly, and I breathed a sigh of relief, silently berating myself.

Jijimon wasn't reading- he was dead asleep!

I turned back toward the cell room to gesture to my partner, pointing at Jijimon's unconscious form. By then, it wasn't necessary- his head was poking out from behind the door, and he could hear the snoring as clearly as I could. Comprehension washed over his face before he scowled again and pushed the door further open so he could stalk out. He gave me a dry look as if wondering '_How the heck did you not realize sooner that he was only _asleep_!?'_, but I ignored him and started tiptoeing toward the door.

Luckily, the door opened without much fuss (although with the decibels Jijimon was cranking out, I hardly doubted it would have made much of a difference either way…), and I stepped outside into the night. I recognized the pebbled street that the Monzaemon had carried me across. In the pale light of the street lamps, the city looked dark and foreboding- I was suddenly grateful that I had done my Vademon hunting while it was still light. I could only imagine how creepy that already creepy place would look at such a creepy hour…

"Are you done gawking?"

_Oh, right… him._ "Yes, well, I suppose when you're a common _criminal_ that's _used_ to breaking out of prison, the joy of freedom gets lost on you, doesn't it?"

"And look who's trying to sound like a non-criminal, _criminal_," the digimon retorted, closing the door behind him. "How quickly you seem to forget that _I'm_ the one who got you out, but that I had nothing to do with how you got in."

…I would have to think in order to come up with a better come back for that. But , in the meantime, I needed to get my digivice back. Amazing, wasn't it, that I was actually looking _forward_ to talking with Dix again? "My backpack?"

The digimon smirked at my dismal lack of a witty reply. "There's probably a storage shed or something behind the building since there was nothing in the front room." To my surprise, he led the way hopping off the stairs and waltzing around the corner. I hurried to catch up, watching his wings flap idly as if he were preparing to fly off the moment his part of the bargain was over.

I thought about it as we walked along the broad side of the jailhouse. "Can you actually fly with those things? They don't look like they'd be big enough to carry your weight."

"If the occasion calls for it," he replied lightly. Being free seemed to put him in a decidedly better mood. "Though not very high, not very fast, and not for very long. But they're useful for getting out of otherwise unpleasant circumstances."

I didn't need to think very hard to imagine what kind of circumstances _those_ were. But, since he was in such a good mood, I decided that I could afford a little bit of good humor. We rounded the last corner and, sure enough, there was what looked like an ordinary garden shed right behind where our two cells shared a wall of bars. But my elation quickly died when I saw a nice, fat padlock fixed to the door handle.

My heart crumbled. _So close!_ "Hey, can you do your-"

The digimon rolled his eyes and sighed. "Seriously, I don't see what's so great about you humans. You can't seem to do _anything_ for yourselves." But he walked forward anyway, did his punch trick, and was just as easily plucking the lock and dropping it onto the ground. He tugged open the door and leaned back against the jam. "Shall I go fetch your afternoon tea, while I'm at it? Some biscuits, perhaps?"

I made a face at him. "Your delightful sarcasm shall be sorely missed, I assure you," I told him dryly as I stepped inside. There wasn't much to see- just a few shelves stretching around three of the four walls with various odds and ends on 'em. I guessed that not many people cared about the stuff that found its way in here- either that, or the digimon that went into the cages weren't in much of a position to claim them again. Luckily for me, I didn't have to look very long…

"There!" I leapt forward and snatched my bag from the chest-high shelf on my left. After the few hours we've been apart, it was almost a physical relief to have it back in my hands again. I opened up all the pockets to check their contents- papers, pens, chewed up pen caps- it was all there! And in the front pouch was my digivice, sitting without hardly a scratch. When I reached in to hold it in the palm of my hand, I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a weight I had hardly noticed until then fall from my shoulders. Silly as it was, with all my things together, I felt whole again.

I glanced over my shoulder at the digimon that was still waiting, albeit impatiently. His tail was twitching faster than ever, and his expression was dry. "Is your junk there? Can I go now?"

At least five minutes earlier, I would have snapped at him for referencing my precious belongings- my _only_ belongings- as "junk", but right then, I was too ecstatic to care. To his astonishment, I gave him a huge smile and nodded. "Absolutely. I couldn't have done any of this without you. I owe you one, big time. Thanks."

The digimon blinked at me, startled, but quickly regained his aloofness and spun around with a snort. "_Humans_," I heard him mutter.

I watched him saunter off for a moment before I stopped him. "Hey, wait a minute."

He paused under a streetlamp to spin around and glare at me, wings flapping agitatedly. "What do you want, _now_!? I've _gotten_ you out, already!" he hissed.

I smiled again. "I just wanted to know your name, that's all. I don't want to think back to this moment and always be calling you 'the-digimon-with-a-bad-attitude-but-turned-out-to-be-kinda-cool-in-the-end'."

He scowled. "You are by far the stupidest human I have _ever_ met."

"Come on, please?"

"Why should I?"

"I'll give you my name."

"And I would want to know that because…"

"It's Sara."

"Sara the Stupid. It's got a nice ring to it."

"And yours is…?"

"-none of your business."

"Great! None-of-your-business-mon! Now I finally have a name to go with the face!"

The digimon finally threw his paws up into the air in exasperation. "Of all the idiotic, irritating humans…"

I grinned. I think I was finally getting to him. And as I paused to think about it, he really _was_ kind of cool. Annoying, perhaps, but far less so than Biyomon. He sort of reminded me of my friend, Nicole- his was a dry humor that was more of an acquired taste than down right funny. But I was only a little surprised to find that I liked him… or at least, I found him a bit more tolerable than earlier this evening.

"So? Do I get to hear a real name, or are you stuck with None-of-your-business-mon?" I asked again. I heard the digimon heave a sigh and felt my victory practically assured. With a triumphant smile, I tucked my backpack under my arm and stepped toward him.

He gave me a shrewd look. "You really are annoying, you know that?"

"I may have heard it once or twice. Your name?"

His eyes rolled. "It's Ze-…"

I blinked. "What's the matter?" The digimon- "Ze" something- was staring at me with a peculiar expression on his face. His eyes seemed to be fixed on my backpack.

"That's _your_ bag?" he asked abruptly.

"Yes," I said, confused. "Why?"

His gaze snapped up to meet mine, suddenly wary and cautious. I looked behind me, expecting someone to be standing there, but saw no one. Looking back, I tried asking again, "What's the matter with you?"

He took some time before answering with an unhelpful "Nothing", but before I could question further, he spun around and darted into the darkness. I stared at the spot where he had stood, utterly bewildered, trying to figure out what had just happened. As far as I could tell, nothing _did_ happened… and yet he reacted to me without warning as if I had a gun in my backpack.

Still mystified, I glanced down at my bag as if it could provide answers. _Of course_ _this is my bag_, I thought, pondering over his remark. _Why wouldn't it-_

…

…

… that dirty, double-crossing, sneaky little… little… little THEIF!!!

I suddenly looked up, glaring into the darkness where the little bastard had disappeared, wishing I could scream my head off at him. No wonder he had questioned me about the bag- he _recognized_ it! _He_ was the one who stole my backpack! The one who sold it to Vademon! In the end, _he_ was the reason I ended up in jail in the first place! Any warm, fuzzy feelings I may have had toward the little creep vanished in an instant. I swear, claws or now claws, if I ever saw that damn criminal again…

"Be glad I _don't_ know your name, jerk-face!" I hissed into the silence. "Or I would have hunted you down to the ends of the Digital World and made you pay for your-"

_Sara? Is that you?_

I almost missed the voice at first, it was whispered so quietly and I was so concentrated on my anger toward the little cat burglar from hell. But for a moment, my heart stopped and I held my breath, trying to figure out if I had only imagined that familiar voice. "Dix? Is that you?"

_Sara! You're okay!_

It was Dix! "Oh, Dix! You don't know how good it is to hear your stupid voice again!"

I heard Dix's laughter. _Oh, Ms. Warren, I'm just thrilled you're safe! I was so worried something terrible had happened-_

"I know, I know," I interrupted softly, glancing around me warily. "But look, I'm not quite out of it all, just yet. I promise, I'll explain it all to you in a minute, but right now I have to-…" And at that moment, for the first time since the digimon left, I looked down at my digivice.

…_Ms. Warren? Ms. Warren, are you still there? Are you okay? Sara?_

Ever since I had gotten the stupid thing, the digivice was really only useful for one thing- communicating with Dix. I know he had told me that it was _supposed_ to be an analyzer of some sort, a way to tell me about the digimon I would meet as I found myself dragged all over this crazy world, but so far, it didn't seem to work. All I would ever see on that screen was the vertical columns of numbers marching back and forth from one side to the other. Never changing, and never anything else.

Until now.

Now, the little green screen was completely blank of any numbers. I had to blink a few times to comprehend this before I could begin to read the single word typed in the very center.

"Zevilamon."

* * *

_Bum bum buuuuuuummm!!!_

_So we finally learn the name of the smart-ass digimon! And for the record, no I don't have his character sheet done... if I haven't really had time for writing, then I can assure you that I haven't had much time for drawing. Besides, I can't ever seem to get him to look right when I try to doodle him... I have to work on nailing his design down a little more... a digimon with that much snarkiness deserves a design that's as cool as he is! XD_

_Tune in next time, peeps! This is Crayon, signing out. Ciao!_


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